The Land That Is Not
by satta
Summary: After recurring signs of Labyrinth, Toby, while visiting Sarah, mysteriously disappears. It has to be the Goblin King! ...Or is it?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note on May 2010:

After debating about it for half a year, I decided to delete the chapter preceding this one, realizing it didn't bring anything to the actual tale. My apologies for possible confusion, the modifications shouldn't be too drastic for the overall story readability.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth.  
Description: While visiting Sarah, Toby suddenly disappears. Certain the blame is on the Goblin King, Sarah embarks a journey back to the Underground, only to find out things are not as they seem.  
Pairing: Jareth and Sarah, after a while. If you're seeking pure fluff, I suggest you look that from somewhere else. Romance can sometimes be painful too.  
Warning: M means M. Even if I'm not overusing gore, sex, profanities, or violence for their sake solely, be warned that they are included in the story.  
Betaed by Anaksunan, in addition to some very helpful suggestions from Naheniel. Thank you both!

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter One

_I long for the land that is not,  
for everything that is I am weary of craving.  
The silver runes of the moon tell about  
the land that is not.  
In the land that is not our dreams wondrously complete;  
in the land that is not our shackles unbolt,  
and dew of the moon soothes  
the wounds on our foreheads.  
My life was a fervent illusion.  
But one thing I found, and one thing I won --  
a way to the land that is not._

"_The Land That Is Not" by Edith Södergran, 1923_

o O o

The doorbell let out a faint ring as if wrapped in cotton as she opened the door. Its sound lingered in the room and Sarah's ears while she enquired about in the murky space she had entered. The door let out a loud bang, slamming shut behind her; its hinges creaked noisily, mixing with the muffled sound of a bell, hanging above the doorframe. She sniffled in the air while looking over the cramped shelves of heavy and dark tomes, covered with a thick layer of web-like grime, and frowned. The place smelled of wet paper, moss, and old age. Like jealous, the few windows, along the wall of the front door, scarcely allowed pale triangles of light in to illuminate the room. Flocks of dust glittered in the sunbeams, drifting in lazy circles -- visible and gone again. Taking a careful step forward, Sarah ventured deeper.

"Hello?" She tried out her voice, straining her neck toward the open doorway she perceived at the other side amidst the crowded shelves, appearing to her eyes like a rough dappled brick wall. "Mister Hoopoe?" she received no answer. "Anyone?"

After waiting for some time and not receiving an answer, she gave herself a permission to approach the uneven piles of books. Carefully, she bent towards the one next to her and read the title of the book on the top. Curiosity tingling in her nerves, Sarah picked it up and opened randomly from the middle, nearly expecting to be sucked in the black-and-white pages, and the story to come alive. Half disappointed when nothing unusual happened, she shut the volume.

Her forehead marred; the place remained as empty as before, and the dense silence rung in her ears. Even the everlasting buzzing of the traffic appeared to be muffled by the thick brick walls that hid the bookstore from the city. She took a gander around, thinking she heard a silent twittering sound, yet seeing nothing. Not a very typical enterprise to request for an advertisement campaign, Sarah decided finally.

"Mister Hoopoe?" She hollered a bit louder, brushing off her musings while placing the book back on its place, and proceeded further. "It's me, Sarah Williams from EDAD's. We had an appointment for today. Are you here?"

"Of course you are."

She cried aloud, startled, and spun swiftly around. Sarah stared at the man, standing between her and the door, and the nervousness that earlier lay dormant at the back of her mind sprung in to life.

"Mi-mister Hoopoe?"

He chuckled and combed his fingers through his hair, giving her a long look. "No. Sarah Williams."

"Excuse me?" She stuttered and stepped backwards to get a better look at the man. A light beard covered a face with an aquiline nose. He might have been thirty-years old as well as fifty; his countenance possessed some sort of hard-defined agelessness. Yet, his clothes truly captured her interest: an old-fashioned black-and-white jacket covered his burly figure. Its hems reached the ground and shuffled silently as he stepped forward. Edges of a white ruffled shirt burst beneath the collar of the shimmering fabric, and the pale light, gliding in behind him, formed an odd halo around his head, emphasizing the ash-like color of his hair. His dark eyes sparkled curiously as he met her stare.

He smiled, and little furrows appeared on his face, making him suddenly appear older. "Of course you are Miss Sarah Williams. That is evident, isn't it?" He moved closer. "We don't very often get lovely young women with special talents here, such as you." The man stopped, tilting his head while grasping her hand in his own, and shook it vigorously. "Tereus Hoopoe, delighted to make your acquaintance!"

"Sarah Williams. Umm…likewise," Sarah attempted to sound friendly, covering her strained grimace.

"Well now! This is truly exceptional! I must demand you to step in to my bureau where you can tell me all!"

"Ah, about the campaign?" Sarah hesitated, stealing a desperate glance over the man's shoulders at the dark front door, fingers crushed underneath his strong handshake.

For a moment, Mister Hoopoe's eyes got murky, like he didn't understand her. Then the light returned to his gaze; his mouth spread in a bright smile. "But of course! The campaign, precisely of that!" He nodded fiercely. "I insist!"

Muttering incoherent words along the way, he dragged her through the open doorframe on the other wall. Sarah squeezed her briefcase straps more tightly and glanced at the surroundings of the long hallway, noticing thick wooden doors lining the corridor's wall. She gasped when she made out ornamental brass hinges, knobs and etched patterns of blooming gardens and singing birds. Small figures of sparrows, great eagles, and many others birds she didn't recognize, glared at her from their gilded branches. One of the doors especially snared her attention. Unlike the others, it only depicted one bird with the tips of its feathery wings stretching from one side to the other. With an open beak, neck tilted in a backward position, it looked like the surrounding golden and red flames were trying to consume the bird. It was an odd picture -- the bird appeared to be both in pain and still rejoicing. She didn't have time to stop and admire the craftsmanship as Mister Hoopoe pulled her impatiently forward.

Soon enough they arrived at a small room, crowded with dark furniture, bookshelves, boards, a table and a pair of armchairs. A small window in the red brick wall allowed some of the precious autumn light in to play over the surface of the polished wooden furniture. Like the bookstore, the walls of his office overflowed with books from floor to ceiling, the sunbeams glittered on the gold lettered titles. The man ushered Sarah to take a seat at the massive table, taking off her jacket and placing it on the rack next to the door.

"Allow me," he hurried to Sarah, pulling the chair out for her. Tensely, Sarah sat down and sunk in the suffocating cushions. She sensed the nails of his fingertips hovering near her neck. Sarah jolted, grounding her teeth, and let out a relieved sigh as the man stepped further away, raising his voice, "Procne! Some water and nourishment for our esteemed guest! And make it quick!"

His steps echoed against the wooden floor, the planks creaking loudly as he circled Sarah to sit down. She narrowed her eyes, half-blinded by the bright light that poured through the window behind his back and barely made out the outlines of his profile and his broad shoulders. He leaned back, hidden amidst shadows the sharp light cast on to him -- only his dark eyes glimmered visibly.

"So, Miss Williams. Would you tell me…"

"Yes?" She prepared to raise her case and pull out the first sketches she had outlined -- annoyingly few. Despite her best efforts, she had found information about the store only scantly. The place had no web pages, no references, and she couldn't discover details of it in any business directories. The only thing she succeeded to dig out of "_Words from the Labyrinth_" was a small marking on the Yellow Pages. When taking into consideration this peculiar book dealer, she no longer wondered why Ed had so keenly shoved the task off his shoulders.

"Whatever made you decide to endeavor in your present career?"

Unprepared for the question, her eyes widened in surprise, and she nearly dropped her briefcase. "Eh...?"

"Yes, Miss Williams," he inquired, seemingly unaware -- or uncaring of the impoliteness of his prying, leaning forward.

Sarah was saved from answering by a sudden creaking of the door. Mister Hoopoe brought up his gaze, looking behind her. "Procne!" The man exclaimed. "This is Miss Sarah Williams, the lady I told of."

Sarah turned on her seat and saw a sweet-looking petite woman some ten years older than her stepping in. The woman stopped, a tray in her hands, and returned the look. Her piercing eyes bore through Sarah; and for a while Sarah thought she recognized something forlorn and pitying in her expression. Then a veil fell over her gaze, Procne lowered her face, and stepped forward. The fabric of her gown hissed quietly as she treaded over the wooden planks to the table, soft tinkling escorting her, Sarah noticed then a small golden chain with a bell on it was tied around her neck. Procne placed the tray in the scarce free space between the piled books and yellow paper. A scent of braised tea and fresh-baked cookies surged in Sarah's nose from underneath the white cloth, covering a straw basket. An elegant porcelain set of two cups, a teapot, and, strangely, a shallow water bowl stood on the tray.

"Miss Williams… or can I call you Sarah? Miss Williams sounds so very official," without waiting her reply, he continued, gesturing towards the woman. "This is my wife, Procne."

Sarah attempted to stand up, but the woman smiled, signaling her to stay seated, and bent her head slightly in acknowledgment. "Pleased to make your acquaintance," she said softly and glanced at her husband. "Do you need anything else?"

"Nay," Mister Hoopoe shook his head, his expression distant. "This is fine as it is, you may go now."

She turned to leave but halted when the man raised his voice. "Tell your sister to hurry up with the weaving! I want to have the work finished by today!"

Procne glanced over her shoulders and nodded. "I will, my husband," she spoke, glancing at Sarah, and something in her voice and expression left Sarah shuddering.

After the door closed, a momentary silence hung in the room. "Where were we at?" Mister Hoopoe muttered with a furrowed forehead, before his expression brightened. "Oh, yes: in your career!"

Sarah shut her eyes and swallowed down the lamentation that lingered on the tip of her tongue. "Yes, Mister Hoopoe?"

"No, no!" He cried. "Tereus!" Emphasizing his words, he banged his fist against the table. The teacups jingled cheerfully at the force of his thrust. "I insist we stick to first name base. I will not have it otherwise!"

"Ah," Sarah squirmed in her comfy chair, "Tereus." She agreed with a heavy sigh.

"That's more to my liking." He nodded approvingly. "So, Sarah, tell me how did you end up…" His mouth twitched as he searched for the right words, "in this EDAD Ltd.?"

"I'm a Creative Director," Sarah carefully said. "I guess it's customary to work in an advertising agency in such a case."

"Oh?" He leaned back in his chair, and Sarah crinkled her stinging eyes, trying to perceive more of him, still blinded by the light. "And what does a Creative Director," he sounded like he tasted the word as it rolled out of his mouth, "do?"

Here was the cue she had been waiting for. Relieved, Sarah lifted up her briefcase. "If I may?" She inquired, placing the case on her knees and snapped open the brass locks on its side. "I have my portfolio with me." She shuffled through her papers, glancing at the dark outline of the man, and handed him her black-covered folder. When he didn't accept it, Sarah lowered the folder on the table with the rest of the items laying there, "…should you wish to see some of my earlier projects?" She lamely suggested, but when the man still didn't move, hurried forward, "I also have with me some suggestions I came up with, with my team for the campaign of your bookstore."

"Oh, really?" He inquired nonchalantly.

"Unless, of course, you already have something in your mind," Sarah said hastily. "I must confess that I found very little information of your store, or details of your proposition in that matter too. I was hoping you would be willing to tell me more of your objectives?"

Tereus flipped his hand casually. "Minor little details."

Sarah gawked at him. "I beg your pardon!" She cringed at her words, but the man didn't appear to mind.

"We can discuss those later on." He bent forward, returning into the light. "At the moment I'm more inclined to learn about you, Sarah Williams…"

"Oh?" She moistened her lips, her heart thumping against her chest. Giving the man a suspicious eye, she leaned away from him, searching for comfort from the backrest of her chair.

His soft chortle broke off her considerations. "Ah, my dear! Don't look so desperate. I merely wish to learn more of my possible payee."

"Really, Mister, I mean, Tereus?" she quickly corrected, her heart's beatings calming down.

"Quite so," he assured, stretching his arms towards the tray his wife had brought, and lifted the water bowl in front of him. "I've understood that an advertisement campaign requires for intensive planning and can be quite costly too. Before deciding on anything, I want to secure that my assets will be well used." He gave her a lingering look, while soaking his fingers in the bowl and causing the water to splash loudly. It was a small wonder none of it spilt over. Lifting his dripping wet hands, Tereus took a soft linen cloth from the tray and wiped his hands dry.

Sarah bit her lip, refraining from inquiring about the reason for this rite, which he seemed to perform with an unusual serenity; and it took some time to realize he expected Sarah to do the same. Hesitantly, she accepted the bowl the man offered to her, lowering it on the table, and sunk her hands in the water. The lukewarm liquid felt surprisingly nice, warming up her locked fingers. She smelled a faint scent of sweet herbs and flowers that reminded her of summer meadows and school holidays of her youth.

After drying her hands, she gave a weak nod, and the man dashed a white-teethed smile. "In that case, my dearest Sarah, what made you choose to become a Creative Director? I would rather imagine seeing you on a stage instead that you would be the one imaging what will be placed there."

Sarah's lips quavered edgily. "New York's an expensive city," she said at last. "I have a degree in cultural history and, since neither culture or history hardly pays off." Her voice died away.

He nearly sounded amused as he asked, "And how about your family? A young woman, as lovely as you, must have someone significant in her life. You cannot be more than twenty-five."

"I'm twenty-seven," Sarah replied tersely, "and my family lives out of the city."

"Your spouse?" His brows arched up questioningly.

Sarah crinkled her eyes and slowly replied. "No. My parents. And my siblings."

"You have many of them?" He persisted.

She gave him a sharp glance, hesitating. "Two: a brother and a sister"

"Oh, really? And might I inquire of their names and ages?

"Toby's twelve, and Chrysta's only four."

Tereus' expression changed suddenly. He sighed and leaned backwards, hiding his countenance from her. "My Itys," his voice nearly broke, "…my son is nearly the same age with your brother." He told her, his voice conveying a mixture of bitterness, anguish, and grief, "Or would be. I lost him when he was but a child." He clarified.

"I'm sorry!" Sarah softly cried, compassion for the man springing in to life in her heart, as she struggled against the need to know more.

"It was a true tragedy," Tereus mused aloud, "my wife… I cannot!" He interrupted with a choke. "Itys was, still is very dear to me." He fell in gloomy silence, "I take you care for your brother alike?"

She nodded weakly. "Very much…I miss him a lot, but he's going to visit me this following weekend," she said, with a guilty feeling she still hadn't contacted Hoggle despite Toby had asked her to. Sarah was still angry at the dwarf. Her love life didn't belong to Hoggle, even if he had been right when he said that David wasn't her type.

Apparently no one was, Sarah thought gloomily.

"Oh, really," Tereus nodded thoughtfully and asked unexpectedly, "Would you like some tea?"

His inquiries remained random. He appeared to be endlessly curious about her life, her career, and her family, asking of her about even the most trivial questions, such as her teenage hobbies and what kind of books she preferred. At last, he leaned back on his chair, and Sarah gulped down her cooled out tea to soothe her throat that ached from too much talking.

"Very delightful indeed," Tereus muttered, and, drained, Sarah remained silent. The light had shifted, and at last she perceived his features. He was inspecting her, his dark eyes gleaming oddly in the dusk as he tapped his finger against the curve of his chin. "It appears you are just the person, we've requested for." He raised his voice. "I trust you too had some issues you wanted to have answers to?"

"Ah, they would be very general," she heaved. "For the sake of planning of the campaign, I would like to know the budget you had in mind. And also to hear what kind of ideas you had installed for the campaign. As I told you, I have brought with me some suggestions you could perhaps review, and point out those of which you like the most."

She broke off when the man shrugged his shoulders. "I believe in your abilities to convey just the right words for me…" She gave him a sharp glance, but the man didn't appear to notice it, while continuing. "There's no need for me to interfere at this phase." He grinned. "In regards to budget, we can discuss that together with the contract."

She turned towards her briefcase, shuffling though her papers. "I have a standard copy with me. I can leave it here for evaluation."

"That won't be necessary," the man cut in, "as I've already written one for you."

"Oh?" She brought up her gaze, nervous again. "I fear I cannot sign anything." She muttered finally. "The one accepting contracts, is the director of the company."

He smiled. "Naturally. Therefore, you need to take the contract with you and return to me after your superior has accepted it."

Sarah arched her eyebrows, but kept her silence. She nearly hoped the man would have such outrageous demands that Ed couldn't in any possible way accept them, but even a brief glance over the paper convinced her otherwise. The man either was a lawyer, or had one -- and a damned good one. Sighing, she placed the contract carefully with the rest of her papers and nodded. "Very well, I will return to you after the director has read through the proposal…"

"You do that, Sarah," he answered.

His tone suggested the meeting was at the end, and, wearily, Sarah got up from her suffocating chair, allowing Tereus to help the coat on her and escort her out of the room. Just when they reached the bookstore, the man slapped his forehead, crying out. "How could I ever forget! I need to fetch something from my office before your departure. Wait here." He commanded and hurried away, leaving her alone to eye the towering piles of books around her. Sarah glanced after the direction the man had vanished, remembering then the doors along the corridor. Hesitating, the curiosity itching in her mind, and the images of the gilded etchings flashing in front of her eyes, she sneaked after the man, hoping he wouldn't mind about her snooping around.

Sarah stopped in front of the print she suspected depicted a phoenix, marveling at the image. It was fantastic -- each feather of the bird was inscribed precisely and clearly. His beak, tail, and the curves of his nails shimmered golden light, like it possessed an inner glow. The bird almost appeared to be alive. She leaned closer, enchanted by the liveliness of the picture.

A sudden creaking of the board was her only warning; the sound growled like a hungry beast that waylaid behind her back. Gasping, she spun on her heels, her gaze darting around before she noticed her. A woman, hidden previously amidst the shadows, stepped forward. She appeared to be of Sarah's age with a long light hair that reached her waist. She too wore a gown similar to Tereus' wife; the fabric hissed silently as she sashayed towards Sarah, a small tinkling filling up the silent space between them. Her dark eyes in oval-shaped elfish face were fixed on Sarah. Sarah realized then she held something in her hands: a dark green textile. As the woman stopped and stretched her hands Sarah discerned more clearly a small pattern -- dark figures that ran through the shimmering fabric.

"What's that?" Sarah asked, but the women didn't reply. Instead, she pushed the cloth forward firmly, nearly forcing it on Sarah.

"Oh. Why thank you!" Sarah jolted, feeling the fine material against her hands, like a smooth river of pure silk. She looked down at the dark figures, odd symbols, akin to alphabets, and a bigger form in the middle of the cloth of which precise form she couldn't quite make out in the corridor's dusk. "It's fantastic!" She exclaimed, bringing up her gaze, and smiled. "I'm Sarah," said she, offering the woman her hand. Instead of accepting her stretched hand, the woman regarded her silently and turned suddenly on her heels, hurrying away. The faint tinkle accompanied her departure.

Sarah stared after her too surprised to move, feeling the heavy weight of the cloth pulling down her hands, when she heard a voice speaking out. "My sister's mute," Procne stepped up forward.

Sarah looked at Tereus' frail wife. "Oh! I'm so sorry. I didn't know that!" She cried softly. "I hope I didn't offend her."

Procne glanced at the direction her sister had vanished, shaking her head in denial, and turned back to Sarah. "She'll understand…" she muttered. Her eyes fell on the cloth lying in Sarah's arms, and her expression became masked. "You should hide it," she envisaged.

"What?" Sarah repeated perplexed, looking down. "You mean this? What is it?"

Procne bit her lip, her attention fixed to the coverlet in Sarah's arms. "A gift. And a very valuable one too."

"But why did she give it to me?"

For a moment Sarah thought Procne wouldn't answer. Then the woman shrugged her shoulders, the thin bones on her neck shifting underneath her pale skin. "Who knows of her messages, but," her gaze pierced Sarah, "always heed to them, for they have never been idle."

"Oh?" Sarah dampened her lips, briefly gazing at the door next to them, the uncomfortable silence lingering between her and Procne.

"You should return," the woman suddenly said.

"My apologies! I didn't mean to pry!" Sarah shook her head. "I only hoped to have a better look at the doors." She pointed at the dark mahogany wood next to them. "They are quite magnificent." She sighed. "But I'll return immediately back to your store to wait for your husband."

Procne returned Sarah's stare, her expression remaining unmoving. "No," she emphasized. "Not there."

Sarah blinked her eyes, staring at the woman, not quite believing her ears. "Forgive me my inquisitiveness! I'll go as soon as I can!" She cried out, deciding she would have a long talk with Ed after she returned to the office. There must be someone other than her who could plan the campaign.

For the first time Procne's face wavered. A flash of annoyance played over her features as she stepped backwards. "No, Sarah," said she. "I meant _there_." Procne pointed at another door at her side.

Curiously, Sarah followed the woman, but before she reached her, Procne's neck stiffened. She appeared to listen to a voice only her ears perceived. "My husband's returning…" she muttered. "I should go." She glanced at Sarah sharply, and the coverlet she held. "Don't let him see that."

Watching after Procne, Sarah sighed exasperatedly, "What a family…" She graced the door with an absentminded glance and froze. The strength fled from her body. For a moment, she forgot to breath, meeting the stare of a gold-white image of an owl.

Sarah didn't remember leaving the store, but when she stirred in motion, she stood out in front of the entrance to "_Words from the Labyrinth_", her fingers tightly curled around the handle of her briefcase and a book Mister Hoopoe had forced her to accept pressed against her chest. Trembling, she shook her head, trying to discard her startling experience. Sarah looked down, fearing to see the familiar red-covered book with golden letters she had given to Hoggle for safekeeping years ago.

Her shoulders sagged from sheer relief as she read the title; Mister Hoopoe had given her Metamorphoses.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter Two

She recognized the blond head immediately amidst the whirling vortex of varied colors. A loudspeaker announced the numbers above her, calling for the busy people to step in trains at the platforms behind the security gates, waiting impatiently for their chance to leave the city behind. Granite stonewalls rose all around her, and the bright morning light drifted in through the windowpanes up on the roof of the waiting hall.

"Toby!" Sarah cried out loud, waving her hand.

The boy's head jerked at the sound, he stopped, and a bright smile spread over his face. He sprinted through the people, squeezing the strips of his bright red back bag with his tiny hands. Sarah's heart swelled as he appeared from the crowd. Then the boy reached her, spreading his arms wide-open, and launched himself at her. She embraced him tightly, pressing her face against his head and inhaled deep his familiar scent, feeling the tears surging in her eyes.

Finally, she let go of him, and the boy stepped backwards, grinning mischievously, eyes sparkling in excitement. "Nice to see you, Sarah."

"Rascal," Sarah ruffled his head, pretending to be angry with him. "I should dump you right here and right now. I've heard from your mom you have no patience with your sister." The chastising effect was spoiled by her wide grin.

"Oh, with you?" Toby retorted, voice trembling with concealed laughter, and hastily smoothed his hair back flat against his head to no avail, his unruly mound of hair springing outwards in every direction. Karen often complained to Sarah about Toby's unwillingness to shorten his hair, making it impossible to keep groomed. His wild mane reminded Sarah of the Goblin King far too much for her liking. As usually, he soon gave up taming his hair and met her stare. "At least I haven't wished her off to goblins, unlike someone else…"

"You better not." Sarah reminded him, suddenly worried. His words reminded her about the earlier unnerving week, animating the terror she always felt for Toby. Ever since the incident with Labyrinth, he'd been somehow different. His eyes gained an oddly piercing hue of blue that descended from neither of his parents, and he stopped crying. Even when both Karen and Robert accepted the cure of his baby colic with a relieved awe, Sarah remained vigilant, occasionally consulting Hoggle and Didymus about his progress.

Sarah's premonition proved to be true. Toby's first word occurred while Sarah was babysitting him; she nearly fell off her chair when she heard the toddler utter the word 'goblin', and then laughed, pleased at the sound of his own voice. No, Sarah concluded, pursing her lips tightly together as she stole a wary glance at her brother -- Toby was no ordinary boy. He remembered the Goblin King's castle, crystals, the Escher Room, and Sarah chasing after him; he remembered Jareth. Sarah shuddered at the thought of the gaunt man. "I've told you many times it was not a piece of cake."

He tossed his head. "That's not what Hoggle has said," he reminded, giving her a sly look. "According to him, _someone _used to think it was."

"You should listen to him more carefully," Sarah shook her head, taking him by the hand and heading towards the doors of the entrance hall. "Since I remember quite clearly him also telling me that every time I uttered that precise sentence, something nasty happened..."

"…such as the cleaners," Toby completed.

"Or the oubliette." Sarah nodded approvingly.

"Aw, but 'cmon, Sarah!" Toby pouted. "It would be so cool! I bet I would outrun the whole maze in eight hours."

Sarah snorted. "Cool?" She inquired, her worry increasing tenfold. Toby had always been obsessed with Labyrinth, and she felt his interest had increased even more so now. Sarah suspected Toby was lonely and lacked any true friends. Karen never said so, but Sarah sensed worry in elder woman's tone when she spoke of Toby. In some ways, Toby reminded Sarah a lot of her younger self. "There's nothing 'cool' in whishing your sister away. Even if you knew what I experienced, Labyrinth wouldn't be the same for you. The chances of solving Labyrinth are, even at best, marginal. You've heard that already."

"But you did it."

"Only because I had help," Sarah repeated the same argument patiently.

"Hoggle, Didymus and Ludo would help me too," Toby answered bright-eyed.

"Toby!" Sarah snapped. "You're not wishing Christa away, you hear me," she threatened.

Toby only grinned at her distress, "Who said anything about Christa?"

Sarah's heart jumped in her throat at the implication in his reply and she shivered, imagining it all in her mind. Seeing the dark-clad figure standing in front of her, taunting her. What he looked like nowadays and how he fared, she had often wondered about.

"Think about it, Sarah," Toby pleaded, hanging on her arm. "I could wish you away, and you could finally meet the King and make peace."

"If it only could be that easy," Sarah sighed, her mood cheering suddenly. "I doubt he'd appreciate your gesture very much, and would, most likely, send me straight away to the darkest pit of the castle prisons." She leaned towards him. "_You_ should think about that. While you had the adventure of your life, I would rot in a dark and drafty cell. And what if you were to lose -- you wouldn't have a human sister, you'd have a goblin one."

"I wouldn't lose," Toby assured her, but Sarah only shook her head.

"Sorry, kiddo. No deals."

"Aw. You're no fun," he sulked, kicking the ground.

Sarah smiled, ruffling his hair again. "Maybe I can compensate that and buy you a breakfast. I bet you're hungry."

His face lighted up. "If breakfast means pancakes: then yes!"

Laughing, Sarah hugged the boy once again, as they stepped through the front doors and out onto the street.

The day passed quickly while sightseeing in the city. They spent some time at the Harbor, straining their eyes to get a glimpse of the distant Statue, giggling at the long lines of people, queuing for an entry to the ferries. The warm autumn sun shone brightly and gleamed on the surfaces of the high skyscrapers as they made their way to Central Park to watch joggers and eat roasted chestnuts Sarah purchased from a street vendor.

She glanced at Toby, sitting next to her swinging his legs on a bench, his gaze fixed at the pond further away. "How are you feeling? Tired?"

The boy turned his head to look at her. "I'm little hungry and my feet hurt," he confessed.

"Maybe we should get back home?" Sarah mused. "I could prepare dinner..."

She was interrupted as her phone started to ring, and jolting, Sarah nearly flung her handbag from her lap. In haste, she searched for the beeping item from the purse's seemingly endless depths, jostling her way through the bag's contents before acquiring the smooth surface. Without looking to see who called her, Sarah answered, "Hello?"

"Sarah?" A tired voice rasped at the other end.

She made a face, not recognizing the speaker immediately. "Lisa?"

"Who else -- an elf?" The woman barked out. Apparently, she had just woken up. "My darling Sarah, please, be so kind and tell me you're not at home!" Lisa begged.

"No, I'm not," Sarah told truthfully, rather puzzled by Lisa's unexpected call.

"Superb! So, what are you doing?"

She gave a fleeting glance at Toby, answering. "I thought I told you last time: Toby's visiting me this weekend. At the moment we're in Central Park and --"

"Oh yes! You did!" Lisa interrupted, her quicksilver-like mind bouncing from lethargy to energy. "And that's great! I'm in Central Park too. Or near to it more like."

"What? You don't live in this direction. " Sarah furrowed her brows.

"I'm staying over night at an," Lisa hesitated, "acquaintance's. It's a long -- or rather quite short story," she yawned, and Sarah felt her lips twitching. "Anyway, I'm about to leave his place and need some food. Haven't eaten since yesterday. I'm famished."

"Well, we're just headed home: Toby's hungry and tired." Sarah said, pretending she didn't notice Toby poking her.

"I'm not tired!" The boy hissed. "Say hi from me!"

"I heard that! Sarah: you're outnumbered, and, besides, I know an excellent and reasonably priced restaurant on the corner of the East 67th and Madison! I'll just pull on my clothes. You go and wait for me there; I'll join you in a minute," Lisa exclaimed victoriously.

The restaurant she spoke of was a homely place, with red-and-white tablecloth covered counters, dining groups of families, and waiters. A bulky man welcomed them inside with a wide smile and led them to a free table. Almost immediately after they ordered their drinks, Lisa rushed in, waved her hand and steering through the packed floor to their table.

"Sarah," Lisa kissed her cheek and, taking a chair for herself, sat down. "Hi Toby!" She smiled at the boy, yawned, and grabbed a menu. Dark bags rimmed her eyes; her wrinkled blouse bore a faint scent of both a sweet vanilla perfume and an unfamiliar musky cologne.

"You look fresh," Sarah commented dryly at her groggy appearance. "Out again?"

Lisa puckered her lips while ordering herself coffee, a toast and a glass of orange juice from the waiter who arrived to deliver Sarah's and Toby's drinks. "One might say that. That new Murano store had its opening night yesterday."

Sarah nodded. "I got the invitation too," she glanced at Toby, who sipped his milkshake, a red-and-white straw slotted in his mouth. She smiled, "but I had more important things to attend to."

Lisa shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever..."She poured some milk in her cup, after waiting the waiter to fill it to the brim. Taking a spoon, she plugged it in the mug and slowly stirred her coffee. The high-pitched clinking sound lingered in the air. She removed the spoon, lowering it onto the table and looked at Sarah. "Daniel was there."

Sarah froze, bringing up her gaze. "Oh?"

"Sarah." Lisa stole a glimpse at Toby, who had finished his milkshake and listened to them with an unwavering attention. She sighed. "Why did you act so -- unkindly? Daniel's a nice man, and you offended him."

"Lisa, could we talk about something else? We had this conversation a week ago," Sarah groaned.

Lisa's eyes flashed. "Suit yourself. Just thought I'd tell you…" She shrugged her shoulders.

"And now you have," Sarah replied more tersely she meant to. She turned to Toby, "Have you yet decided what to order?" She asked, ignoring her friend's blaming stare, and thankful that for once Lisa agreed to do as asked to and held her tongue.

"She was right, you know?" Toby told her when they finally arrived at her home.

"What?" Sarah spun to get a look at him. Turning on the lights she hung Toby's jacket on the rack next to her dark trench. Toby had been awfully quiet after the dinner, and Sarah had hurried back to her apartment, thinking he needed rest after their long day.

"Lisa, you kind of dumped him, that Daniel-guy," Toby repeated patiently and bent down to untie his shoelaces. "Hoggle said to me it wouldn't last, that you already showed the symptoms," he struggled with the foreign word the way he struggled with the knots of his sneakers' ties. "He said you do it every time."

"Oh? He did now?" Sarah placed her hand on her hips, looking down at him. "I didn't know you shared his concern over my personal life…"

"Don't be a chicken!" Toby plunged out his tongue, straightening his back. "And, anyway, he was right. It didn't last." He frowned. "I honestly never liked him that much. He was kind of boring," he thought for a while and continued, "nice but too boring."

"Toby!" Sarah exclaimed shocked, hearing his words echoing her own earlier thoughts. "You shouldn't speak that way about other people."

He snorted. "What? I heard you saying so to Hoggle."

Her eyes narrowed as she regarded the boy. Finally, Sarah blew out a long puff of air. "Ah, I don't want to talk about this with you, Toby."

He shrugged his shoulders, following her to her small living room, and muttered something that sounded very much like, "As usual…"

Sarah didn't react, pretending she didn't perceive the sound of his half-irked words. Her gaze skimmed over the furniture of her small flat, and she felt some of her earlier tension lift up from her shoulders. The green mantle she received from Procne's mute sister hooked her interest, spread over her couch next to bed sheets Sarah had taken out before leaving to fetch Toby. Sarah had been surprised of both that she succeeded to stuff the cloth in her briefcase without Tereus noticing it and her case had room for it. Sarah had never seen such a material. The fabric was thick yet delicate. When getting home and pulling it out from her case, Sarah could not but gasp at the wonderful image Tereus' sister-in-law had weaved. The figure in the middle had a bird motif: a hawk. Sarah's had nearly burst out in laughter when she recognized the lifelike bird's image that stared at her with bright gleaming eyes. Well, as long as it wasn't an owl, she didn't have problems.

Toby jumped on her sofa, his body thumping hard against the cover of the pillows. Sarah heard the springs squeaking underneath his weight and winced. The boy yawned, leaning back comfortably and reaching out for a remote control. A blue-white tint of TV illuminated the room soon, and his fingers absentmindedly caressed the green textile, trailing over the patterns of the dark hawk.

"I'm jumping in the shower," Sarah told him. "I'll be back soon. You know your way around, right?"

"I'm not a baby," Toby replied proudly. "You don't have to fuss over me." He turned to watch the TV and laughed out loud at the sight of a familiar cartoon character being outmaneuvered by a roadrunner -- again. Shaking her head, Sarah left him to watch Looneys, an amused smile playing over her lips.

When she returned, he had spread the sheets and now lay on the couch, reading something while leaning his elbows against his makeshift bed, the TV's sound turned down. Apparently, he liked the gift of Procne's sister, since he had spread the cloth over his bed as a bedcover.

"Toby!" Sarah called out.

"What?" He looked up, perplexed.

"You got everything ready by yourself," Sarah groomed her moist hair curling around her face, enjoying the feel of her comfy sweater and sweatpants. Smiling, she sat next to Toby. "I'm just surprised."

"I told you, I'm twelve!" Toby grinned. "Big enough to make my own bed." He glanced at the book in his hands.

"What are you reading?" Sarah asked curiously, and her forehead marred when she heard his reply.

"This was next to your papers on the table. A Greek poetry book, I guess."

"Oh, that one…" She muttered, cursing silently that she didn't remember to put the book away. "A new customer gave it to me…" she hesitated, "and told me to give it to you."

"What?" He made a funny face.

Sarah shrugged, looking at the table and the papers she noticed beneath the top cover of her table. She frowned, realizing they also included the contract she ought to read through before returning to Tereus. To her displease, Ed hadn't agreed to her request to be left out from Tereus' advertisement campaign, telling her that Mister Hoopoe had called immediately after her departure to tell him about his satisfaction with Sarah and that he wouldn't accept unless it was her doing the plan for the campaign.

"Apparently the book used to belong to his son. After he learned about you and that you were arriving at my place, he asked -- no, basically, forced me to take the book and promise to give it to you."

"You don't seem to appreciate his gesture too much," Toby commented, his round face questioning.

Sarah bit her lip, unwilling to explain about her weird experience with Mister Hoopoe. Immediately after the meeting, she briefly considered throwing the book away. Mister Hoopoe and his family had unnerved her more she was willing to admit even to herself. The book, though, appeared quite ordinary, aside from the fact that its covers were made of genuine leather; its thick pages were turning yellow; and its publishing year had been more than a century ago. It was priceless, and she had no heart to give such a treat away.

Toby turned to inspect the front cover, reading aloud the title, "Metamorphoses by Ovid…" He looked back at Sarah. "I've heard the name, I think."

"It's a Roman classic," Sarah sighed, stroking down his hair, heart swelling at the endearing sight of his untamed pile of hair, "and one of Ovid's most famous works. Metamorphosis consists of a collection of different stories and legends about people who go through a change from a human to something else -- like an animal."

"I kind of figured that out," Toby snorted. "But why did he want to give it to me if it belongs to his son?"

"Since," Sarah spoke softly, remembering Tereus' anguish again, "he died. Mister Hoopoe, the customer, told me that it used to be his son's favorite book, and he wouldn't have it otherwise than to pass the book on to you."

"He sounds really friendly," Toby commented while leafing through the book's aged pages that shuffled gently at his touch.

Sarah shook her head. "You have no idea. He was a total nutcase." She stared blankly at the TV, her attention straying from the images flashing through the screen, thoughts in her experience with the queer family Hoopoe. She missed the curious look Toby gave her.

"So, have you talked to Hoggle yet?"

Sarah blinked and turned to him. "What?"

"You said you would talk with Hoggle before the weekend, have you done so?"

She averted her gaze, muttering, "I'm sorry, Toby. I was really busy the whole week."

"Sarah," Toby complained, sitting up, and gave her a blaming gawk. "It can't be so difficult!"

"What do you know?" Sarah snapped. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm down. "Sorry Toby. This' been a difficult week, and I just haven't got time."

Toby crossed his arms, scrutinizing her coldly. "Well, what prevents you from doing it now?" He demanded.

Sarah shook her head, annoyed at his persistency. "I don't get it. Why do you necessarily wish to speak to Hoggle?"

At her question, Toby's face sparkled to life. "I want to tell him about my biology exam!" He told with a proud smile. "I got an A!"

"Oh, that's great, Toby!" Sarah exclaimed, relieved the boy let go of his nagging, and sobered then. "But why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"I wanted him to know first! I bet he'd be proud…" Toby told with shining eyes. He lowered his hands against his knees while squeezing the book tightly. "Hoggle taught me the difference between a black and a sugar maple, and the teacher asked me that in the exam! Did you know that sugar maple have more lobes in its leaves, and that black maple kinda droops?" He explained his voice waving with excitement. "Hoggle told me that when you went out with David to say to him you would break off with him."

"Ah, oh yes, " Sarah muttered, blushing. "I remember now." She rubbed her forehead, and then glanced at Toby. "Wait! I didn't know he teaches you!" Despite she tried to push the feeling at bay, her heart coiled form a painful twist of jealousy.

"Nah," Toby muttered. "Only in biology. You know, he's a gardener? He's the best in the whole Underground, Didymus said so -- Hoggle also won the Golden Rose this year, it's their first prize. He knows everything about plants!"

"He's my friend. Of course I know he's a gardener," Sarah answered somewhat tensely. "But do they really arrange gardening competitions in Labyrinth?"

"Yeah, they do!" Toby's eyes sparkled from excitement. "Hoggle told that every part of Labyrinth have a separate caretaker. He oversees the work of Hedge Maze, and he has five assistants the King has assigned to him."

"-- that sounds a bit too aristocratic for my taste," Sarah frowned.

"Well, it's his kingdom," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes. I am aware of that as I have met him," she answered levelly through her teeth, trying to restrain her annoyance.

Toby gave her a thoughtful look, failing to notice her ire. "You should just call him. I'm certain he's over all that stuff already. I know you miss him."

"Toby!" Sarah cried out shocked at his words. "I most definitely do not miss the Goblin King! And even less will I call for him! You're crazy to even suggest such a thing. Have you forgotten that he tried to kidnap you and turn you into a goblin?"

"Only after you asked him to," Toby reminded, frowning at her.

"Hey!" Sarah shook her finger at him. "He had his eyes attached to our family long before that. I saw him often in his owl shape near the park by our home when I rehearsed the play."

"You know, Sarah, not all owls are Goblin Kings in disguise. You should listen to Hoggle sometimes," Toby chimed, and she locked her teeth angrily together, the anger finally igniting to flames.

"Since when have you become the keeper of Hoggle's secrets?" Sarah snapped. "I know what I saw, and there's no way I will call for him." Her eyes narrowed and she stared at Toby suspiciously. "You've been plotting this together with Hoggle, haven't you?" She challenged.

Toby returned her stare with a bewilderment expression playing over his face. "Plotting? What are you talking about, Sarah?" He groaned.

"Don't pretend, mister. Last time he, and now you."

"You're not making any sense!" Toby complained. "How could I plot with Hoggle when the last time I saw him was while visiting you? And as you know, you're the only one who can call him here."

He spoke the truth, Sarah realized, but still the anger didn't subdue. "You have no right to meddle with my personal life," Sarah scowled. "As far as I'm aware, you're not part of it."

"Not part of it?" His eyes flashed angrily as he retreated further away from her. "I'm your brother, for crying out loud!"

"Half-brother." The moment the words fled from her mouth, Sarah wanted to cut off her tongue. The anger disappeared, leaving only shock and terror. "Oh no! I'm sorry, Toby! I didn't mean that!" She stretched her hands, trying to apologize to him immediately, but too late. The boy frowned at her angrily and narrowed his eyes.

"Sure you did." Toby snarled, retreating away, and sprinted on to his feet. "You're such a prig, Sarah!" He swooshed his hand and nearly hit Sarah with Metamorphoses. "Up yours!"

"Toby!" Sarah gasped shocked at the profanity, aghast at her own words.

"What?" He snapped. "Like you wouldn't curse yourself? You know, Sarah, were I to wish you to goblins, I wouldn't even bother running through Labyrinth. I rather take my dreams than you!" Toby spat. Without waiting for her reply, he turned on his heels and stormed away, leaving Sarah stunned in her place. She could hear her bedroom's door banging and her paintings frames' tingle at the force of the thrust.

"I'm such a moron!" She croaked aloud and buried her face in her hands, listening half-heartedly to the faint applauds of a TV sitcom and weakly wondering for a reason at her vicious reaction to Toby's words. For a moment she imagined hearing a high-pitched screech mingled together with television's deriding laughter, mocking her like a cruel joke.

"Stupid! Stupid me."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Labyrinth.

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter Three

Memory of Toby's words throbbed like a sting of a wasp, a dull ache that brought to life all she had suppressed. Sarah stared at her hands she had curled together on her lap while fidgeting her fingers and blaming herself for her thoughtless words. Once, she had asked for him to be taken away, a fact which neither could ever forget. The unspoken truth hung between them like a question lingering on the edge of her mind: If Toby had not been her half-brother, would Sarah have done what she did then -- called the goblins? The truth was, it was she, Sarah, who had been the spoiled child, asking for things she didn't or couldn't understand. Labyrinth had taught her its lesson. She had grown and changed. But the experience had changed Toby too, and it wasn't right. Sarah had paid the price; but the price shouldn't have concerned Toby.

Sarah shook her head, hearing the familiar voice of the TV anchor speaking up. Sighing, she reached for the remote to prevent it from informing her about problems of the world. She had her own share of them already.

Glancing at the wall above the TV, Sarah noticed the time on the metal clock. While she was brooding the dusk had crept into her apartment. The shadows snarled in the corners hungrily like the roaring engines of the cars out on the streets. A sound of a siren cut in the air, its voice howling strangely clear and strong in the room. Sarah placed her hands on her side, feeling the soft texture of the handmade cloth against her palm, and, absentmindedly, caressed the outlines of the embellishment, feeling the uneven surface against her fingertips. As if touching the bird brought her the necessary strength, Sarah stood up and glanced at the image, narrowing her eyes. The cloth appeared different. Unable to banish the itching feeling that the bird had shifted, she fixed her sight on the hawk. She gasped frightened. The bird's eyes were colorless, as if the bird had suddenly turned blind!

Startled, she stepped backwards, and her breath caught up in her throat. Sarah tensed, and the hair on her neck stood up. Shivers ran down her spine, her pulse racing with a frantic beat as she looked around. The whole apartment reeked of wrongness -- an ominous dark silence she knew from her memory suffocated her.

"Toby!"

Sarah sprinted to the door of her bedroom, and, with shaky hands, knocked on the door. "Toby, are you alright?"

Her only answer was a loaded silence. Heartbeats throbbing in her ears, Sarah turned the handle slowly. She pushed the squeaking door ajar and slipped into the dark room.

"Toby, please, say something!" Sarah whispered, the cold fingers of the autumn air caressing her face. "Are you here?"

Her fingers trembled as she groped for a switcher. _Click. Click._ Stubbornly, the darkness prevailed; she could barely make out the outlines of the furniture. Ghostly whispers passed over her ears and her skin, and Sarah saw curtains fluttering on the other side of the room. The wispy drapes and the night together with the city lights formed an odd shifting collage of light and dark on the floor, like tentacles of a shadowy web that slithered next to her feet. Sarah dashed to the window and pushing the curtains aside, she leaned out of the window. Her gaze scattered about until she perceived a faraway dot against the red pathway of the night sky and dark silhouettes of the skyscrapers -- a bird, soaring through the air before disappearing from her sight.

"No!" Sarah cried.

Pressing the sill so strongly the blood fled her hands, leaving her knuckles white, she stared out at where the bird had been, before pulling back inside. Sarah forced her eyes shut, gasping for air, feeling the panic scraping her mind with its piercing claws. Unable to hold back, she started pacing her bedroom, walking through the shadows entwined in her steps.

"That swine!" she muttered, fuming, and stopped. "That two-faced bastard! He shouldn't be able to do that! I won him! I solved the Labyrinth!"

Chewing her lip, she stole a glance at the open window, remembering her odd customer.

"He must have worked for him!" Her anger sparkled to life as, grounding her teeth, she recalled Mister Hoopoe and his peculiar little family. "Go back?" she snorted, Procne's word stirring up in her mind. "So, he wants to have a little rematch?" Sarah pulled herself to her full height, turning towards her vanity. Through the glass, darkly, her image stared back at her, and a faint amazement gushed through her mind. Despite all these years, she still didn't know what made the mirror so unique. Sarah blinked. Oblivious to her tightly fisted hands she yanked in a tug of air.

"Hoggle, I need you!"

She bit her lip, covering her mouth and breathing through her hands, fearful that Hoggle would leave her call unanswered. As Sarah discerned a murky reflection of the dwarf appearing next to her, she nearly fell over with relief. The familiar sight of Hoggle's figure banished her anxiety and worry momentarily. He hadn't changed that much in appearance -- maybe his furrows had grown steeper, the lumps on his face grown in size. Hoggle still wore the same red leather vest and tattered puff-sleeved shirt. The jewels on his belt jingled merrily as he stepped forward, meeting her eyes through the vanity's glass.

"Well, that took some time, Sarah." He frowned at her. For a moment, Sarah feared he was still mad at her, but then his expression cracked, Hoggle stepped forward and smiled. "It's nice to see ye."

"Hoggle!" Sarah cried, unable to hold herself back any longer. Seeing him broke the dams, setting all her fears running loose. With tears pricking in her eyes, she fell down on her knees and wrapped her arms around Hoggle. He tensed at her unexpected reaction, nearly collapsing underneath her weight as she buried her face in his neck, sniffling. "Toby! He stole Toby!"

For a moment he didn't move. "Now. Now. Calm down," Hoggle patted her gently, the calluses of his hands scraping against her hair. "What's happened?"

"He did it! The Goblin King!" she snapped, letting him go and sitting down cross-legged. "I'm certain of it! The whole setup reeks of him and his handy works."

His placed his coarse hands atop her palm and looked at her worriedly. "Sarah. Tell. What has happened?"

"Hoggle, I don't know!" Sarah yelled frustrated. "At first, Toby's here. And then he's not! He just disappeared! It must be Jar -- the Goblin King!" She covered her eyes, forcing herself to calm her panic. "We had a fight," Sarah confessed. "It was really stupid. I was stupid and said some nasty things to him, making him all upset. He ran away into my room, and when I got up to apologize, no one replied. The lights didn't go on, the window had been opened, and," she told her eyes gleaming with hidden tears, "the coverlet I got from my customer's sister-in-law changed. He must have bespelled it."

"Changed? What coverlet?" Hoggle's nose wrinkled. "I don't know about his abilities that well, but cloths?"

"I'll show you!" Quickly, she rose to her feet.

As they left her dark bedroom behind, Sarah briefly explained about the recurring signs of Labyrinth, her meeting with Tereus Hoopoe, Procne's mute sister, and how the bird motif had transformed after her and Toby's fight. They stopped in front of her couch, and he stared at the blanket curiously, scratching his head.

"Yep. There's something different in it," he admitted finally, sniffing the textile. "It doesn't smell harmful though. More like a protective charm, I'd say." He frowned. "Definitely, it's no human work, but I'm not familiar with hawks. The King prefers owls as far I know."

"I'm quite aware of that. Thank you very much!" Sarah snapped. "He must have known that I know, and exploited that as a weakness. I would have never accepted it if it had been an owl!" She slumped on the couch, sighing. "What does he want from me, Hoggle? Revenge?"

Hoggle hesitated, shaking his head. "I don't know, Sarah. He doesn't interact with me but to tell if he wants something done with his Labyrinth, or there's a runner coming forth. I haven't seen him for nearly a month now."

"Does he know that you can visit me like this?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Ye've asked that already."

"You still don't know." She took a deep breath. "What should I do, Hoggle? If he's kidnapped Toby, I have to return! I have to save him!"

"Ye know, ye can't use the gateway," Hoggle said after a prolonged silence.

Desperately, she rubbed her temple, feeling a pounding headache making its appearance. "But what can I do? Call goblins to take me to Underground?"

"That's not a good idea…" Hoggle told, shivering. "What I've learned, he still bears grudge against ye."

Sarah snorted. "How is it so that I'm not surprised? He always struck me as a sore loser."

"'This but a guess…" Hoggle repeated. "I don't know for sure. I'm, after all, only a lowly gardener, but," he stepped closer and whispered in Sarah's ear, "good old Didymus told the King banished all his court goblins to Bog after they asked him if ye would organize another party for them."

"That's terrible!" Sarah covered her mouth, vividly remembering the disgusting stink of the Bog of Eternal Stench, and her eyes momentarily sparkling from hidden amusement. "He must have regretted his decision afterwards. I bet the goblins smelled rather -- infernal?"

Hoggle sighed, "No, they are still living over there, having their own community while they drive poor Didymus mad," his lips twitched. "The goblins have no sense of courtesy to ask his permission to use the bridge."

Sarah couldn't prevent an amused chuckle, "So, that's why he's been complaining about rustic and lawless goblins." She sobered. "He exiled the goblins only for that?"

"Yup," Hoggle confirmed, "banished them totally, but, frankly, I don't think they even care."

"So, going through Labyrinth would be extremely difficult." Sarah mulled over the information, creasing her brows, even more convinced the Goblin King was to be blamed for Toby's disappearance. "And I don't have anything to bargain with! Hoggle, please, help me! Is there any other way to return?"

He stared unseeingly through her while tapping his mouth. "Yes," he confessed at last. "But it's dangerous. We both might get in trouble, and you might never be able to return to your world."

Her heart clutched painfully in her chest at his grim tone. "That's a risk I'm willing to take if it's really the only way to save Toby."

Hoggle's voice faltered, and he avoided looking at Sarah. "I've heard of a spirit that takes mortal souls to other side of the veil. He's also rumored to be able to travel between dreams and reality."

She licked his lips. "He could take me to Underground?"

His gaze returned to her, shrugging his shoulders. "That's possible. I think so." He crumpled his mouth, "But ye need to cast a spell if ye're to call him."

"So," Sarah asked eagerly, "what do I need to do?"

He looked definitely sheepish as he answered, "I don't know…"

"What?"

"But I know the Wise Man has a Book of Spells, which also includes the summoning charm," he hurried at her outraged expression. "I can travel back, look for him and ask him to give me the charm. The problem is, no one really knows where the Wise Man lives. It might take some time, and," he shivered, "were the King to find out, he'd banished me straight from Labyrinth. Not to Bog, but to border lands. To Black Widow's Mountain."

"I remember you telling me of the waste land. I don't want to cause you trouble." She looked at him worriedly. "You shouldn't sacrifice yourself. I'll come up with something else."

"Sarah, ye're my friend," Hoggle interrupted her gently. "Ye've been my friend even when others despised me. Ye taught me about sacrifices, loyalty and bravery. And ye know I care about Toby. If he's in trouble -- if ye're seriously wanting to come back… I'll do anything to help ye."

Ashamed, she looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry about the words I said last time," Sarah muttered. "You're a true friend. I couldn't wish for a better one."

"Forget about it, Sarah," Hoggle touched her hand. "I ain't mad at ye, and we have more important things to think about."

"But still, I wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"And I forgive ye. Sarah. Let bygones be bygones, " Hoggle answered, giving her a gentle pat. "I better go now. Why waste time?" He smiled at her encouragingly. "Call me after an hour, and, if I don't reply, every half an hour therefore. I come as soon I have the spell."

"You seriously think the Wise Man gives it voluntarily?" Sarah asked skeptically, remembering the creepy little man to whom she gave her ring.

"I heard the King upset his mind somehow. Ye just have to ask him the right questions." He smiled. "Besides, I know he's rather smitten by ye, and he'll help ye, just to annoy Jareth."

Immediately after Hoggle's departure, Sarah started pacing once again around her flat, glancing at the clock and cursing the minutes that seemed to remain stuck in place. To pass time, she changed her clothes while searching for something that would help her back into Labyrinth. She gave up as she realized she hardly paid any attention to the items she had laid on her bed. After an hour, she called for Hoggle, but he didn't reply. She tried to eat, but the food was tasteless, and she had no appetite. Half an hour later, she called Hoggle again, yet he remained away. After the third call, when he still didn't reply, panic started to resurface. She thought about calling for goblins, reminiscing the lines she should speak aloud, sitting on her bed and staring at her vanity.

She realized she no longer saw her image. The apartment was packed with darkness. Startled, Sarah stumbled through her room to the switcher willing it to work this time. The bright electric light stung in her eyes, and she blinked her eyes, trying to adjust to change of illumination. After her sight returned, her gaze hooked on the book that lay on the floor.

Sarah's face fell. Sarah barely found strength to pick the book up. For a while, she kept it closed in her hands before walking to her vanity and placing it on it, carefully, without opening the book.

She stared at her image, noticing the tired rims beneath her eyes and her worrisome stare. She leaned her elbows on the table, resting her head on her hands.

"Hoggle, I need you…" Sarah didn't find strength to look at her reflection as she called for Hoggle for the fourth time, afraid he still wouldn't answer.

Unexpectedly, she felt someone touching her shoulder.

"I'm here, Sarah," Hoggle said softly. "Don't worry," he continued as she looked up, "everything's going to be alright. Look what I have with me." He waved a yellow parchment he held in his hands victoriously and lowered on the table. "See -- I've brought you a gift."

Sarah snatched up the paper, rolling it open, and looked at Hoggle. "This is it?" she asked suspiciously, turning on her chair to meet his gaze.

He flinched. "That's what the Wise Man told me to write down, as far as I understood him…" He scowled and mused. "He kept on dozing off, and I had to explain him all over again why I was there. It was complicated and way too confusing. Ye need to do two spells instead of one, which is why it took so long time, and even then…" Hoggle hesitated, "He said something about a payment, but dozed off in mid-sentence. I couldn't wake him up anymore." Hoggle winced. "I swear that some day I'll strangle his idiotic hat and pluck out all its two feathers. That cursed, dim-witted turkey offered me no assistance whatsoever. I fear the description might lack some information. I just hope it's adequate enough…"

"I hope so too," Sarah muttered absentmindedly, her eyes skimming through the words as she thought about the senile old man and his animated boater with a head of a talkative bird. "I admit I'm not very convinced, Hoggle," she muttered. "Even the hat would be a better wizard." She waved the parchment in her hands, "You're certain this will work, Hoggle?"

He almost smiled while swaying his stub of a finger at her, "Haven't ye yet realized that not everything's as it seems? I heard he used to be a famous magician when living in Aboveground," he sighed, "but time hasn't treated him well."

"Yes," she agreed, her shoulders sagging. "You're right. Besides, and even more importantly, I don't have another choice but this -- or whisking myself away." She flinched.

"Ye remember what I told ye," Hoggle warned her.

"If this works," she tapped the parchment, flaring her nostrils, "He will be the sorry one!" Despite her impudent words, Sarah's heart raced at the very thought of meeting the haughty Goblin King.

Hoggle only sighed, shaking his head. "Ye be careful, won't ye?" Hoggle confirmed and scratched his head. "For the death of me, I still can't seem to recall Wise Man's words. Before him nodding off, he was explaining about a fee, something he told you should be aware of."

Sarah glanced at the paper. "We just have to survive with this. And hope it's enough."

"Ye're right. But still, be mindful, won't ye, Sarah?"

She almost smiled. "Always, Hoggle. I promise."

"Yes," Hoggle sighed. "Anyways, I've written ye instructions how to get through Labyrinth. I'll contact Didymus during this time."

"I see." She nodded, glancing at the paper. "So, I guess we'll be seeing each other soon."

"Yes, Sarah," Hoggle muttered darkly, giving her a light tap on the knee. "Just be careful. I'll be waiting for you."

Her heart fluttering, Sarah watched him fading away before turned her attention back to the instructions.

"Okay, so, what should I have?" she murmured, going through her list. She narrowed her eyes, reading out loud. "_Before Performing The Rite Ye Shall __Cast A Circle__, A Sacred Space That Separates Yer World From The Other And Protects Ye From The Beings That Might Wish To Harm Ye." _It sounded reasonable, Sarah thought while trailing her finger over the jagged letters Hoggle had written down.

"A broom, a sword and a bell…" She grunted -- she didn't own a broom and, most definitely not a sword. Well maybe a duster would do the trick? And with imagination a sharp knife could act as if a sword. She had also stuffed somewhere an elf's cap with a jingle bell. It should be enough. She returned her attention to the list.

"And incense?" She bit her lip, glancing at her side, remembering Lisa giving her a packet of those some years ago. Candles and spices she had, but a ram, a tortoise or a hawk? Sarah groaned annoyed, cursing Hoggle for not writing down the reason for the animals. Based on the instructions she needed at least one of those for the latter spell. Sarah jerked up her head, remembering then the green coverlet she had received. She returned her attention to the ingredients. Nothing said the animals should be genuine. Sarah hesitated only a moment.

She dutifully followed the instructions Hoggle had brought to her, wiping the area clean with her duster and brushing off the imaginary negative energies that might reside in her hallway, visualizing a wide circle just in front of her doorway. She spread the herbs over the floor and hung some of them above the doorframe. After that, she lit up the candles and incense, watching the smoke circling lazily upwards, instantly feeling it starting to sting in her eyes. She frowned. Honestly, Sarah never quite grasped how Lisa could use those disgusting things. She shook her head, glancing at the time, before stepping inside the circle.

"As I draw this magic circle, lets no evil or ill will cross its mark." She rung the jingle bell, its tinkling echoing in the silent hallway, and stopped at the side she suspected to be east, speaking out, "Guardians of the East, Powers of Air, I thank you for joining in my circle. I ask for your blessing as you arrive: May there be peace between us, now and forever. Blessed be." She performed an awkward bow, before following an invisible circular path, holding the knife in upward position and jingling the bells, their cheery chiming casting the surrounding dark away.

She stopped at the other side of the circle, speaking out the same phrase as before, this time directing words for the South and Fire. Sarah proceeded with the rite, dealing all four points of compass and the elements, feeling completely ridiculous while galloping around her hallway, holding a red elf's cap in one hand and a kitchen knife in the other. After Sarah spoke out the last words, calling for the North to step up forward, she suddenly felt something shifting -- the shadows seemed to bulge, the air swayed around the imaginary path she had tried to visualize following. A cold breeze caressed her cheek, and she swore she almost heard a murmuring sound.

Fearfully, Sarah looked around in the small hallway, yet seeing nothing. Banishing her anxiety, she straightened her neck and closed her eyes, taking deep calming breaths one after another, memorizing the lines she had read. Only when she felt ready to finish the rite did Sarah looked up at the closed front door. Her heart quivered in her chest, the rational part of her brain chimed in that she was being childish and naïve, condemning her effort to utter failure. She bit her lip and, crinkling her eyes, returned Toby to her mind. She took a deep breath and spoke aloud,

_Deep in shadow, hidden from sight,  
wandering by, like a thief in the night.  
Slipping through cracks in reality's wall,  
flying alone through the chaos' hall._

_Alone in the world, far from the time;_  
_Undying fire of the far-seeing eye  
looks deep in the human child's soul;  
yet deeper still is the place I must go._

_Hawk on wings, silent in flight,  
hunter unseen, hidden by night._  
_Veiled in dusk, beyond mortal sight,  
ascend beyond the gods' lofty height._

_Wings of air carry me free:  
in the Underground I wish to be  
and leave behind the ones I knew,  
fellow travelers there are but few._

_None may go where goblins hold court,  
but there my mind seems to cavort.  
Alone and silent I scream in the dark,  
while visions and sunbursts tear me apart._

_Realities flow with plastic speed,  
Angels and Demons me do feed.  
As both the worlds and time collide,  
on Hawk's wings, into Underground I ride._

Listening to echo of her words fading away, she sent a silent prayer that her summoning would work. The darkness swirled in her eyes. The soft glow the candles cast around the circle faded, the stench of the incense grew stronger, and Sarah felt her skin begin to get goosebumps.

"Ah, so _you _are the summoner. What a treat! I haven't been called since the Crimean War, if I rightly remember. And even then, I rather think, the caller was an old and ugly man. I have to say that you are a definite improvement from him -- even from behind."

Slowly, Sarah turned around, mindful that she didn't cross the circle and blinked her eyes at the sight of the radiant creature, a man, watching her. He stood in her small entrance hall, inspecting her with a satisfied smirk playing over his face. Tiny wings of gold projected from his fair-haired locks, in which they had been fastened symmetrically on both sides, and he carried a golden staff in his arms with white ribbons tied around the head of the staff. Sarah's mouth fell down at the view of his bare skin, lean chest and muscular arms; and blush crept over her cheeks as she quickly tried to find a safe place to set her eyes on. Except for glimmering gold-colored sandals on his feet and a white cloak draped over his left shoulder, which hems hardly reached his groins, leaving very little to imagination, the man appeared totally naked.

"A long time has elapsed, since I last enjoyed from the carnal joys, and I have to say, you, my lovely mortal, are not a bad choice." The man smiled gleefully, taking a step forward, and Sarah gulped down the lump in her throat, almost stepping out of the circle.

"No! Stay back!" She gasped, finding her voice, when the man reached out, his lean well-groomed fingers stretching out to grasp on her. "Don't touch me!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Labyrinth.

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter Four

_" --Leisure, Catullus, is your downfall__  
__in leisure you exalt and become over-excited:  
leisure before now has destroyed both kings  
and prosperous cities."_

-- Catullus, 51

"Why are you resisting, my pet?" he purred softly, voice humming in the dusk of her hallway. "I read from your eyes you find me, dare I say," he chuckled, his bright eyes flickering self-assuredly, "attractive." And before Sarah had time to reply, he continued, "There's no shame in lusting after me. I am, after all, a god."

"Yes," Sarah gasped, her gaze darting from his smooth face to his muscular arms and chest, and back to his face. She felt uncomfortable at the excessive sight of the skin gleaming in the soft candlelight, "A great," she gulped, "god, I can see." Face burning, she forced her gaze to fix on a spot over his shoulder, "Yet, I asked you here for a different reason than mating."

"A boring reason, I assume," he flashed his teeth. "Do not say you have no desire to share the pleasures of the flesh with me. I am a famous lover throughout all time. No woman ever has complained of my touch. In old times, they composed songs to honor me, and young virgins challenged the wills of their fathers, calling me to share their beds, blushing and bleeding their first blood for my sake."

Sarah met his stare and willed her voice to remain flat. "Yet, I'm unmoved. I bid you to listen to my request."

"Yes. The message was hard _not _to acknowledge." the man locked his teeth together, hissing with contempt. "You ask me to take you to Underground, the Goblin King's domain."

"Yes," Sarah sighed.

"Having second thoughts a your impulsive wish?" The man all but smirked, "Do you seriously think meeting the Goblin King will soften his heart to revert the act you have committed to?"

"That," Sarah raised her chin, "shouldn't concern you!" The light in his eyes blinded her sight, but she forced herself to hold his stare. "But, as you so kindly asked: the answer's no. I have more wit than to wish anyone away!"

His expression turned rigid, and he sneered. "Do not lie to me, mortal! I smell it clearly on you -- the foul stench of Underground and an erroneous wish done out of hate!"

Bewildered, Sarah fell in silence. "I did ask goblins to take someone from me but that happened more than ten years ago. And I gained back what I thought I would lose," she confessed slowly. Her heart pounded against her chest, and she swallowed.

Only a slight widening of his eyes revealed his surprise. He inspected Sarah keenly, as if trying to see through her before turning his attention to the shiny staff he held in his hands. "If this is the case, what urges you to request me taking you back?" he asked thoughtfully, the shadow of his nose cutting his profile.

Sarah wavered, casting her eyes at her feet. "My brother...was stolen from me," she confessed.

"And?" he inquired unimpressed.

"And I know it's him -- the Goblin King!" Sarah snapped, pulling her shoulders back. "I'll be damned to wish myself to him! I need to be the sly one this time, if I'm to rescue my brother."

The frown ceased, and he smiled as he looked at Sarah. "Well, why didn't you say so immediately?"

"You'll help me?" Sarah almost staggered from relief.

"Tsk, tsk. Not so fast, young mortal. We need to discuss your payment first." He leered at her, his gaze taking a leisure stroll of her body, and Sarah shivered at the hungry gleam in his eyes.

She dampened her lip and asked, cringing at her broken tone, "Y-you have something in mind?"

Still smiling he stamped the golden rod against the floor and pulled himself to his full height, voice full of hardly concealed connotations. "Indulge me, mortal. Guess."

"Err," Sarah gulped down the lump in her throat, her skull resonating from the gonging of her empty mind as she, with burning cheeks, looked down. "I can't but wonder what a simple woman can possibly offer to an immortal god…?"

His smile widened at her strained tone. "Do not think so little of yourself. A god's life can be very boring, and we are not strangers to small generosities and amusements of life…such as sex."

Sarah shivered, her knees wobbled and the blood rushed through her veins. The embarrassment churned her cheeks. "As divine a lover you might be," she muttered reluctantly, "I still have to decline the proposal."

He shrugged, answering, "You lack the idol." As he stepped forward, Sarah's eyes watered at the scent accompanying him, a fragrance of burnt leaves, and spices, and musk -- like a world a long time gone. "An idol has to be sacrificed, or I will dictate the payment."

"Idol?" She gave him a sharp glance, thoughts galloping franticly through her mind, and spoke aloud slowly. "Would one of those be a tortoise, a ram or a hawk by any chance?"

A brief fracturing of his expression revealed him, and, nearly triumphant, Sarah kneeled down quickly, grasping for the cloth at her feet. Before he could reply, Sarah triumphed, "I have an idol!" Standing up, she let the textile roll open and revealed the image to the god. "I'm not lacking my ticket!"

Motionless, he stared at the figure. The sweat trickled down her spine at the prolonged silence as the minutes ticked away. Finally, he brought up his gaze. "Not so heathen after all," muttered the god, hiding his mouth, but Sarah discerned an amused sparkling in his eyes. "My congratulations."

"Umm…you'll accept it?" she asked, the fear still strangling her.

He tilted his head while puckering his flush lips. "It's not a conventional idol, I admit. Yet, I recognize its true value. Alas," he looked at Sarah, "I have no need for such a protection. It would serve you a lot better, but if that be your forfeit, I will accept it."

"Protection?" Sarah repeated hoarsely, remembering Hoggle saying the same. Had she misjudged Mister Hoopoe after all?

His brows arched up with a surprise. "But of course!" the man exclaimed. "How could you, a feeble mortal, perceive the depth of its charm? It's a true masterpiece, I tell you that. And by its closed eyes, I see it has already chased off some ill meant for you." He smacked his mouth thoughtfully. "Someone appears to wish you a great harm, my juvenile mortal."

She shivered at the words. "I knew it!" Sarah muttered darkly. "It's just his style…the bastard! I'm going to make him sorry!"

"Are you certain you wish to travel to Underground?" the god confirmed, giving her a doubtful look.

She straightened her shoulders. "I am! I have to save Toby!"

He tapped his mouth, glancing away, and asked, "Do you know what will be the price of traveling there?"

"There's another price?"

He sighed, "Somehow I find this deal harder and harder to make…" His eyes flashed at the sight of Sarah clutching the green textile tightly in her arms, and he leaned backwards holding on the staff more tightly. "I assume you know the story of Persephone and Hades?"

She nodded warily, muttering. "Sure…why do you ask?"

He bit his lip. "Before becoming Persephone, she used to be Kore, a maiden of such an innocence and purity, none had seen ever since," the god finally told with a bitter tone. "As like many others, the god Hades fell in love with her as she meandered on the meadows of her mother and abducted Kore to Tartaros." He looked through Sarah as if seeing it in front of his eyes. "If you know her tale, you also know that after Hades' act was revealed to other gods, the mighty far-seeing Zeus demanded him to return the maiden goddess back to her grieving mother. But unbeknown to Zeus, Kore had secretly consumed six peas while in Tartaros. When she ate the food of the Other World, all her ties to the Ordinary World were severed. She transformed from Kore to Persephone, and even the great god Zeus was helpless. He could not revert her act but only lessen its effects. And so it happened that goddess Persephone became a wife to Hades. Half a year she would sit by Hades' side in Tartaros, and other half she would spend with her mother."

"Yes?" Sarah asked.

"Understand this," he eyed her sharply. "If you eat anything from Underground, even for the slightest taste, you cannot ever return back to your own world. You will be doomed to live in Underground until the end of your remaining days. You shall share Persephone's fate with the difference that you cannot ever leave. "

She narrowed her eyes. "I ate a peach when I was there the last time. Why didn't I have to stay then?"

"You said you had wished someone away and completed the Labyrinth to gain him back," replied the god.

"Yes."

"You challenged the Goblin King. By his law, he had to accept the challenge and bring you to Underground. It was his magic that tied you to his country, and when you triumphed over him you also triumphed over his might. All ties he might have spelled on you were then reverted."

"But not this time?" Sarah muttered, glancing at her feet.

"No. Nothing will help you if you are to accept anything that's offered to you there," confirmed he.

Even shivering, she raised her chin. "My friend warned me, and I'm aware of the risks. Thanks for the advice, but I have to go back! He's my brother!"

He shook his head and grumbled. "Headstrong mortal. Why does it seems I am always aligned with them?" he puffed a breath of air. "Very well. The summoning of your spell has nearly drawn to its end. Step out of the circle. I will accept your sacrifice and do your bidding. I will take you to the Goblin King's land."

She blinked, tensing. "But…" she gasped.

"What?" the god retorted arrogantly. "I do not have all day. Step up or stay behind. That is my requirement."

She wavered, remembering Hoggle's instruction. The god had tried approaching her. He had threatened and wooed her, but dared never to cross the boundaries of her circle. If she stepped out now, she would be exposed to him and his will. Nothing would shield her were he to take advantage of her. Biting her lip, Sarah looked at the god, trying to read his mind, but his face remained blank.

Braising herself, she inhaled deeply and pulled back her shoulders. She took a hesitant step forward, clutching the green cloth in her trembling hands. Her head felt woozy. Stepping through the circle, she nearly tripped over by the sheer strength of tingling power that swarmed in her hallway, itching on her skin and sizzling in her ears.

He stood impassive, watching her approach with glittering eyes, fingers locked around his golden staff. Sarah stopped in front of him, licked her lip, and met his gaze.

"Come closer," the man said softly, eyes flashing barely noticeably.

Sarah swallowed, and her heart hammered against her chest like crazy. Shivering, she took another step. His warm breath caressed her face, the heat emitted from his body. Sarah flinched as his hand rose to her cheek, his fingers hardly touching her, sliding downwards to her chin.

"What are you doing?" She stared into his bright eyes, noticing odd golden sparks amidst his dark pupils that were almost the size of his irises.

"Shh. Be at ease," he murmured, leaning downwards, his hand gently cupping her cheek, and, so slowly it felt painful, fastened his mouth onto hers.

His kiss was like a breath of wind -- free, playful and gentle. A wondrous sense of warmth spilled in her, poured down her spine all the way into her toes. She shut her eyes, and a breath of a sigh escaped her lips. Relaxed, she nestled closer to him with a vague impression of his strong arms enfolding around her. A momentary feeling of disorientation stole her breath. She leaned onto him more heavily, feeling the wind arising around them, making her shiver. Her body tingled; blood burned her veins; the air stung in her lungs. Her body itched and scorched. She was on fire! Sarah jerked backwards, pulling her head back and opened her mouth to shout.

A treble screech pierced her ears. Scared, she opened her eyes, realizing she had just heard her own voice. She screeched again, half-panicked, as she realized the floor had vanished beneath her. She hovered above the ground, hitting the air madly with her wings! The fluttering of the air currents caressed on her feathers and her talons; she heard the sounds of her neighbors like never before: clanking of their chores, noise of their talks, the shouting of television. In front of her she saw another hawk with a dark beak and bright gleaming eyes -- the image of her coverlet came alive.

_Follow me… _the god's words echoed in her mind. _Fly with me, and I'll show you the way to Underground._

He screeched while turning and flew through the corridor, towards her living room. Amazed, Sarah took off after him, the wonderful feeling of flying making her giddy and carefree. It felt as if she had always possessed wings, known the strength of them, her abilities to soar faster than others. The world appeared so much clearer, sharper -- even the tiniest details and smallest marring in the furniture seemed obvious to her sight. She nearly laughed as she took off after the huge-winged hawk, following him through the open windows – a voice in the back of her mind reminding her that human-Sarah had shut them, but the bird-Sarah couldn't care less, feeling the suffocating walls falling over her, eager to flee the cramped apartment – into the night.

They flew higher, escaping the noise and ruckus of the city, the cars, the pollutions, and the smog. The hawks ascended higher from the white gauze of clouds, traveling through the frost coagulating on her feathers. She felt the biting coldness as she followed him blinded through the fluffy clouds. When she finally reached the open sky, felt the fresh and pure air against, she shrieked from joy. Flapping her wings, she speeded up after him, passing thousands of bright stars scattered carelessly over the dark layer of the night.

He led her towards the moon blazing like a giant silver coin, or some sort of fantastic fruit dangling ripe from its root. The wind grew stronger, the stars stretched on their way, and skies opened like a huge gate, revealing a path that led from her world to unknown. Without a doubt or hesitation, the hawks passed the wide gate of skies, following the trail of the silvery moon and leaving after them the dreamy night.

o O o

A sense of dread penetrated his mind, stirring him from his slumber. He blinked, staring at the ceiling, sharply listening to the sounds of his surrounding: the faint twittering of birds on eaves; the silent humming of the cold stones; steady intakes of air. Narrowing his eyes, he concentrated and plunged deeper, traveling beyond the boundaries of his room, sensing the fleeting thoughts of his servants, the twisting and twirling forms of the castle corridors, rooms and hallways -- the shifting and turning miniature version of his maze outside the city walls, always on the move, searching and looking for something new; yerning for completion. The endless corridors of Labyrinth never stilled or ceased their restless voyage; never remained the same. He liked it that way; moments of transition leaving but fleeting echoes of the past. The land that never was could never die; the endless changing of Labyrinth reminded him of the fact.

Jareth marred his forehead, feeling it again. Something was off -- he threw the blankets from his way, feeling the silky texture of the sheets against his skin, and rolled out of his king-sized bed. He walked to the arched window, seeing the dark rooftops of the city houses and walls, and the faraway hills of the wasteland stretching further away. Between them lay his Labyrinth. He frowned, turning hurriedly around. Yes, something definitely didn't feel right. Barely noticing his sigil and its sharp metal eclipses pressed against his skin, he dressed and disappeared with a blast of sparkling flock.

The day dawned behind the gently sloping hills of faraway. Everything remained calm and silent as the owl glided through the sky before landing on a bough of a dark tree hunched leafless and dead next to shadows of the city. The mornings remained his favorite time. The creatures of Labyrinth, his subjects, were still asleep, curled in their beds, dead to life. Only the most punctual ones would hurry up to perform their chores, groom their land, haven and home. Mornings were his leisure, his moments of quiet meditation.

He listened to the deep breathing of his land, hushed murmurs and memories of nightmares it still breathed out. His eyes flashed angrily, and he ruffled his feathers, thinking how close he had come to losing it all. Even now, the aftermath felt like a dull ache in his bones. _And then there was the boy._ The owl clamped his beak tightly together. To be honest, he still hadn't a clue what to do with him. Jareth nearly sighed in defeat, feeling sorry for himself. _A most unfortunate destiny indeed…_

A torturous echo pierced his ears, and, shaking his head, he turned to look down. Eyes in bright yellow sickles, the owl watched as a small figure sneaked through the small crack in the city gate. The dwarf –_ Higgle?_ – what was he up to? Nothing good, Jareth decided, expecting the little man to steal an escape from the Goblin City and the city guards. His eyes followed the dwarf as he crept from the Goblin City glancing furtively at his side. Without waiting any longer, Jareth spread his wings and followed him.

After the city walls disappeared, the dwarf's shoulders aligned and his pose got stronger -- a curious change. The little idiot headed straight into Labyrinth while having continuously quick looks at the sky. Jareth kept his distance, swooshing like a soundless shadow from one tree to another, lurking atop of crumbled walls, hidden from the dwarf's eyes. But when it became evident the twerp wasn't any closer to his goal, Jareth decided he had enough. He took off and landed behind the dwarf, returning back to his true form.

"My, my... What have we here?"

The dwarf froze and slowly turned around. Jareth could see emotions flashing through his face: dread, resentment, and worry.

He cast down his eyes, sweeping the ground with his feet. "Yer Majesty."

"If it isn't Higgle himself!"

The dwarf's face darkened at Jareth's mocking tone, and he muttered quietly, "Hoggle."

Annoyed, Jareth frowned at the dwarf's defiance. "Whatever." He flung his hands behind his back, locking his fingers together, and took a step forward. He inspected the little man keenly. "You're awake early."

The dwarf remained silent, his eyes still cast down. His fingers twitched by his side. "I'm needed in Hedge Maze," he muttered at last. "I forgot to cut a passage on the outer rim. And I thought I saw some of thos' nasty fairies about. Have to keep care of my duties, as yer Majesty well knows…" He patted a spray bottle dangling on his belt next to his jewelry, lifting his face.

"Oh really?" Jareth inquired nonchalantly while tapping his chin with a finger. "How curious," he leaned closer, sensing the dwarf shivering, and suppressed an amused smile, "since it seem to me, Hoggwart…"

"--Hoggle," the little man gasped out, trying to back away.

Unperturbed, Jareth continued, snaking his arm around the little dwarf's shoulders before he could escape. The leather of his jacket creaked noisily in the silent morning. "That you're heading at the wrong direction," he hushed.

"Oh!" Hoggle wheezed, letting out a nervous laugh. "So it seems." He squirmed under Jareth's hand while glancing at his side. "Yer Majesty is right as always! Funny me, I must have taken a wrong turn, being so early and all…" He blinked, and his face bleached as he met Jareth's stare.

"Hoggle…"

"Higg---" he swallowed down the word and blushed. His Adam's apple moved as he swallowed. "Yes?"

"You wouldn't dare to cross me another time, would you now?" Jareth frowned. "That would be very unwise."

"Me?" he squeaked, shaking his head vigorously in denial. "Never! Not after yer Majesty's last warning!" He hit his chest. "I've learnt me lesson, ye can trust on me!"

"That's good!" Jareth hissed, face masked with anger, "Since you know very well what'll be the consequence of being caught up plotting against me ever again."

Noisily, Hoggle gulped down a lump in his throat. "Yes."

"You're certain I don't need to remind you?"

He shook his head with the jewels jingling on his belt.

"A bog would be too kind an act for treason. Anyone who dares to violate the King's Law will be banished," he lowered his voice, "to the desert."

"I is not doing anything like that anymore!" Hoggle squeaked off-key.

"That's good," Jareth snorted. "Now, run off." Disgusted by the dastard dwarf, he pushed the little twerp away and pulled himself upright. Jareth watched him stagger clumsily and frightened away, and added as an afterthought, "And Hoggle…"

The dwarf stopped and turned slowly to look at him, fear shining from his eyes. "Yes?"

"If you seriously think that I don't know about those little meetings of yours with that brat." He could see color fleeting from Hoggle's face and snarled, "Think again." Before Jareth transformed back to his owl shape, he said at the paralyzed dwarf. "And be very, very thankful."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own "Labyrinth".

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter Five

_The burning pain in his chest urged him forward. He couldn't rest. The blurry edges of the landscape slid by; towering houses changed to trees, bushes and lifeless planes of dust, sand and rocks. His bones and muscles ached. He couldn't breathe. He barely saw the dark shape in front of him, knowing in his feverish mind he was near to the end of his journey. _

_He didn't slow down as the building appeared into his sight: little hut hid in the shadows of the looming mountain. Unable to control himself, he saw the pale yellow walls approaching him, growing in size. He fought, his muscles trembling from the exhaustion and fright. He cried out in terror as the distance closed down._

o O o_  
_

The tips of the sunbeams cast their first pale light over the ground. The languid fog hovered just over the grass; the dew glimmered on the grass and trees; and yonder over lie the spirally outlines of the Goblin King's castle. Out of nowhere, a pair of hawks appeared in the pale morning sky, slowly gliding downwards.

The moment Sarah's clawed feet touched the ground, fire churned through her body; a burning ache forcing her to whimper aloud. The world shifted in front of her eyes, becaming hazy. Deformed dimensions of her surroundings bulged and bubbled as if boiling. She moaned, digging her nails into the soil, and only after a while became aware of the pain the grass that dug in the skin between her fingers and nails caused. She let out a frightened gasp, staring at the moist lawn level with her eyes, the morning dampness wetting her jeans and shirt.

Hastily, she scrambled on her knees, and her eyes fixed at a pair of unclothed masculine legs standing opposite of her. She looked up and blushed.

"I have kept my word," the god told her, hair shining golden in the morning light, eyes flickering deliberately as he watched her crawling at his feet. "We are in the Goblin King's land." He tilted his head, pointing towards the castle beyond, and stepped closer.

"Thank you," Sarah croaked and, accepting his outstretched hand, staggered up with wobbly legs.

The god frowned suddenly. "Are you sure about this?" he confirmed and placed her palm against his warm torso, gently rubbing her fingers. "I could take you away, show you so many other wonderful places that lie behind the gates of the skies -- if foreign lands are that which fascinate you. I am allowed to travel back and forth to all the worlds. A word from you, and I would take you to the stars…" He stole a sneaky glance at her.

"I appreciate the offer, I truly do." Sarah shook her head, trying to pull back. "But I have to say no. I have a brother to save." She puckered her lips annoyed at his persistence.

"Yes, that is what you told," the god muttered, sighing, keeping her fingers confined against his chest. His heart trembled like a wild drum. "It's always the same with you mortals…Stubborn, you never seem to understand that which would be for your best."

"Were your siblings in trouble, wouldn't you try to help them?" she inhaled sharply. "I can't abandon Toby to the Goblin King! I love him too much!"

"I plead, but in vain." A cheerless smile manifested on his face, making him appear more human, almost vulnerable. As the sight of his expression stole Sarah's breath away, he stepped closer, letting go of Sarah's hand. "It appears your heart has already been lost," he mused while stretching to stroke a lock of her hair from her eyes. "The blossom blooms, but not for me." His eyes grew dark, "Yet, I want to give you a gift."

Sarah didn't even have time to flinch as the god stepped right next to her, snaking his arms around her waist.

"Young mortal woman. This will be my gift to you, a reward for the trust placed on me. You have arrived in a hostile land alone, and I pity you, knowing what the future has in store for you." He placed his lips on her forehead and whispered, "With my blessing go with your quest." He shifted his mouth against her eye, placing a soft kiss on either side, "Let no evil fool you. Shall every charm planned to deceive you, be revealed at your sight. This I give you," he paused while locking his stare with Sarah's and, jerking her closer, whispered huskily, "and this I take from you -- a sweet breath from your lips, destined to kiss someone else."

Before she could refuse, his mouth hooked on her mouth hungrily, like savoring of and feeding from her. She felt his fingers running over her skin, her neck, and caressing her earlobes as he compelled her to give in to him, subduing her with his mouth and tongue. His kissed her wildly, fervently, and Sarah yielded breathlessly; and shivering.

At last, he unfastened his mouth from her, pulling further, and watched Sarah's flushed face. With a flicker of a pleased smile playing over his features, he slid a finger over her swollen lip. His touch tickled and warmed at the same time.

"Lets it be said that the swift-footed Hermes has lost his touch, even if this time he may have been too slow." He released her, stepping back. "I bid you now my farewells, sweet maiden. May you find that what you seek from the Goblin King…" after saying so, he bowed, and, in front of her eyes, started to shift.

Stunned, his taste lingering in her mouth, Sarah stared at the god, now only a familiar, silver-winged hawk. After screeching one single piercing cry, the bird spread its wings and took off, soaring towards the pale yellow line of the morning light, quickly disappearing from her sight.

Sarah sighed, tenderly touching her sore lips, and then shook her head, stealing a fleeting glance at the Goblin King's castle. The sight of its dark towers and outlines made her heart tremble – with worry, fear, or excitement? She couldn't tell. She inhaled the unearthly, flowery scent lingering around and noticed the glowing and sparkling trees surrounding her. Absentmindedly, Sarah stroked her hair, the pale shafts of light tickling her face.

"One obstacle passed," Sarah murmured, "another one to run into." She still needed to find the place they had agreed on to meet with Hoggle. Looking down at her sneakers, she spoke out, "Well, what are you waiting for? Come on, feet!" She sprinted and dived into the dark forest.

The forest remained the way Sarah remembered. Eerie silence lingered amidst the trees as she stole her way forward through a narrow pine path hidden beneath the undergrowth. The trees whispered and rustled, and nervously Sarah glanced around, at the trunks glimmering and glittering from the morning dew. The wind howled through the branches, and the angry rustle accompanied her as she walked deeper in the forest, the ominous chill seeping through her bones.

The little birds twittered sitting on the boughs, their songs mingling with the hiss of the leaves like they were telling a story to each other. Their sounds were oddly familiar, and she shifted her head, listening keenly to the birds and the trees, almost understanding their wordless tale.

The deeper she got, the dimmer the light grew. The trees leaned towards each other, narrowing the path, and forced her to slow down. Walking became more like a struggle. Sarah pushed the branches and bushes aside, hunched and crunched down on her knees, cursing the trees as if they were preventing her from going further on purpose. She screamed when a branch nearly hit her in the face. She ducked, stopped and bit her lip, looking around. The trees were wavering, the leaves rustled with an angry tone. And then she heard a voice, a mix of a whisper and a howl.

"Go away!"

"Who's there?" she demanded, pulling herself upright.

The wind grew stronger, the leaves rustled. "Human child, begone!"

Sarah raised her chin, "I'm not afraid!" she lied, glancing around the green surroundings. "I've learned that things are different here, and there's more than meets the eye."

The voice grew stronger, echoing around her. "Why are you here?" the speaker asked, turning harsher like the wind that blew through her. "You're not welcome anymore."

"I'm here for Toby!" Sarah snapped, refusing to be intimidated. "I won't leave until he's returned back to me!"

The forest fell silent, and Sarah felt a change in the environment -- the wind died, the light turned colder. Her heart trembling she spun nervously around, trying to see through the impenetrable surrounding greenness. Then, her hair stood up. She froze and slowly turned in place.

Sarah gasped. Something, like a form of every possible different green, a glowing aura shimmering around her, or him, was approaching her.

It was an odd creature -- made of leaves and branches. Its feet were a pair of frail old logs, its mossy hair dangled down its back. And its eyes were like bottomless pools of dark water. It appeared from nowhere, walking toward her, and stopped right in front of her, looking at her with dark alien-like eyes.

"You shouldn't have come…" The voice rushed in her ears loudly even though she couldn't see a mouth.

Nervousness churning her chest, Sarah forced herself to stay still and meet the creature's dark stare. "He stole Toby! I won't allow that!"

It closed its eyes, breathing out a twittering of birds, rustling of leaves and a soft wind that brought along a faint scent of mold, flowers and wet moss.

"Yes. We -- I know," it answered at last, taking a step forward. "The boy's in danger, but you have no right to return. You denied us. You don't belong here," it accused her.

Sarah back-stepped, "I didn't understand then," she stammered, baffled with the bitter tone of the forest creature, trying to defend herself. "I had a family. I couldn't abandon them, or abandon Toby."

"Stupid girl", the creature spat. "You nearly destroyed it all, and now you even failed to protect the boy!"

"But I'm here to save him!"

"He's out of your reach!"the creature hissed. "You did your trip in vain."

"He's not here?" Sarah whispered through parched lips, terrified. "But I thought," her voice died.

"What? That the King would snatch him?" the creature snapped. "You don't get it, do you?" it hissed, circling around her slowly, ominous silence falling on Sarah.

"What?" Sarah watched it warily as it walked around her.

It stopped suddenly, right in front of her face, leaned closer, and the leaves and branches forming its face moved. It was smiling, Sarah realized then.

"You already lost him, and not only now."

The angrily hissed words made her shiver and raised a bitter taste in her mouth. She gulped, "But I won!" she all but cried. "I beat the King, I solved the Labyrinth!"

"Won?" It let out a sound -- half a snarl, half a laugh. "You nearly destroyed everything."

"I don't understand," Sarah stammered, backing away from the creature.

"Of course you don't!" it hissed. "Time and time again you've shown your lack of wisdom, prudence and compassion. You care of nothing but your meager desires."

"What gives you the right to judge me?" Adrenaline coursed through her veins, her heart trembled, but she tried not to care while pulling back her shoulders. "You don't know me! You don't know about my life!"

It moved so fast. Suddenly, its hand grasped her throat; it lifted her up, dangling her from its wooden hands. She coughed and wheezed beneath the stone-hard grip, trying to rip off the fingers that pressed her gullet and prevent her from breathing.

The creature brought her closer, tilting its head while watching her pointless struggle.

"Careless and meaningless words that have little importance. I should destroy you for your crimes," it told her, and Sarah shivered at the emotionless tone, trying to rip herself loose.

She hit and kicked, but nothing appeared to affect the creature. Desperately, she gasped for air, scraping the creature with her nails. The world started to spark in her eyes, turn to black when, unexpectedly, it let go of her. She fell on the soft lawn, laying still and breathing heavily, trying to regain her composure. Tears burned her eyes as she looked up.

"I've done nothing to you!" Sarah cried, trembling, trying to crawl up on her feet, but her legs had no strength. She panted loudly, and her throat ached. "Why are you punishing me?"

It didn't pay attention to her. Instead, it was staring straight ahead, musing aloud. "The boy is lost now, also from me… " Then it shook its head, looking down at Sarah, and grimaced. Sarah saw its face to move. A huge hole that appeared on its face revealed a set of dry sticks and branches. It took a step closer, wobbling and creaking like an old tree. "And you have no further use for us..."

Sarah screamed, throwing her arms to cover her head, waiting to feel its relentless hands on her once more. Instead, she heard an angry hiss, and then only the quiet rustling of the leaves. Shivering, Sarah peeked through her arms.

It was bent over her. A dark gleam shimmered in the depths of its eyes, a looming promise of what it intended on her behalf. Then, oddly, it smiled, pulling itself straight.

"No," the words echoed around the forest. "There's still something you can do. You may live, for now."

Hastily, Sarah scrambled backwards from the forest creature, bewildered by her sudden salvation. She licked her parched lips. "Wh-what do you...?"

"Sh," the creature hissed annoyed. "Don't tempt your fate, human." It raised its moss-covered arm, stretching wooden fingers towards the crown of the trees and the hidden sun. For the time being nothing happened, then Sarah heard a crack, and the bark of its arm split open. She gasped, as a tiny twig with delicate leaves protruded through the creature's rough bark-like skin, shivering in the gentle wind. The creature lowered its arm, bringing it in front of its face, and gently cut the twig off.

It looked back at Sarah, keeping the tiny branch in its hands. "The King knows not, of yet," it said, hesitating. "And there've been…difficulties in conveying messages through. He needs to know."

Sarah shivered, a memory of the face of the Goblin King appearing in her mind, a sense of upcoming dread raising goosebumps on her skin. "You want me…?" She had no time to finish the question.

"Don't look so astonished," the creature rasped aloud. "This is why you're here, after all. Not because of your priceless brother." It leaned closer, lowering its voice. "Don't think you could ban us from your heart simply by your childish refusal."

Sarah stared at the creature, her mouth agape, uncomprehending its words.

"Eat it," the creature offered the branch to Sarah, "Just to make sure there won't be difficulties…"

Sarah couldn't find words, shivering at the bitter tone of the creature, and shook her head in denial.

"No?" it mocked her, tilting its wooden head. "Little human, you're not in a position to prevent me. You walk on my soil and trespass the land I created together with the King, to protect and nourish that which was dead and void of time. You brought the change, and I do not forgive…"

"You're?" Sarah croaked, but the creature only hissed, and the leaves in the surrounding trees shivered as a furious echo along with its words.

"Don't be so astonished, child! Surely you realized the King's strength springs from the land, just as much as the land reflects the King's heart." It let the twig fall in front of her feet. "If you want to reach your precious friends, truly save your brother, eat it."

Something sunk deep within Sarah's heart at those words; a sense of nervousness churned her chest.

"But," she whispered, eyeing the small twig lying on the ground, "if I eat it..."

"You have the whole eternity," Labyrinth-creature mocked her, bending closer. "Your infinite ever after. Isn't that what you wanted, Sarah?"

She shook her head, trying to back off. She couldn't even scream as it grasped her head, forcing her face to the ground. The wet moss, the sharp needless infiltrated her nostrils, and Sarah only barely managed not to scream as the forest-creature pressed her down unyieldingly. Her hands groped the ground as she struggled to free herself. Panicking, she felt the wooden fingers pushing her deeper to the ground, the mold and moss blinding her sight and preventing her from breathing. Her ears caught up its words, like an angry rustle of leaves.

"Nnnnnn," she mumbled, still trying to resist.

Yet, the hands kept her firmly against the ground. Through her panic, she realized she couldn't win. She could die here, on the clutches of relentless incarnated country; dreamland as she had naively believed it to be before. She ceased struggling, and felt the fingers ease their pressure, then, pull back.

She didn't move, lying face down.

"I tell you, your brother is not here. "

"You lie," Sarah stated flatly, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground.

"Why should I?" the words were cold.

"You want revenge." Sarah looked up, leaning against her arms. "You want to fool me so that the King can punish me, so that you can have both my brother and your revenge…"

"Stupid human!" the creature snarled. "It's enough punishment to have you here. "But," it bent closer, "rest assured that you won't find your brother in the Underground."

She looked at it, narrowing her eyes. "Why then?" she queried. "Why keep me here?"

It hesitated, pulling itself upright. "My reasons are my own."

"That doesn't answer my question," Sarah accused.

It gave her a long look, until it finally spoke, "I need your help to find the boy."

Sarah snorted. "What good can I do if I'm not able to leave the Underground?"

She jerked as the creature snarled angrily, stepping closer. "Sarah, you subdue. You accept. That is the price of coming back."

She sniffled, meeting the creature's odd alien-like eyes; and, finally, without a word, stretched her trembling hand towards the little twig lying in front of her eyes. She felt the creature's eyes on her while holding the plant in her dirtied hands.

"If you want my assistance," it purred softly, and Sarah looked at it through her hair dangling on her face. Surprisingly, the creature appeared almost serene, its dark mossy hair fluttering around its face like a dark pile of leaves and plants the gentle wind swayed. "If you want the King to help you to find our precious Toby."

She didn't move, staring at the creature.

"For Toby," she whispered at last, her eyes itching, and before she could come to her senses, stuffed the plant into her mouth.

It tasted -- normal. Like the branch of a tree would normally taste like, bitter and bland. Sarah chewed the bark in her mouth, swallowing down the pieces of wood along with her fears and tears. She looked up at the wooden Labyrinth-creature, secretly wondering the reasons for its actions.

"Now, Sarah. Get up. Continue your little run and look for your treacherous friends," the creature said. "I shall not prevent you further, and the trees will allow you to leave."

"But you," Sarah gasped the dull taste of the wood lingering in her mouth.

"Don't you worry," the creature mocked her. "You can be certain that you shall be found...sooner than you think." It smiled through the branches of its mouth.

"What will he do?" she whispered hoarsely, shivering.

It fell into silence and confessed, "That…I don't know. But, you can be sure, he won't be happy."

"What can I say?" Sarah sniffed, lowering her eyes to her hands. "Will he even help me?"

"He will. Your brother is important to me just as well as to him. Just tell him," the creature hesitated as if not certain. The forest around appeared to hesitate along with it, falling into a lingering silence, waiting for its words. Only a distant bird somewhere dared to raise its voice; its cheerful melody sounded like blasphemy. Finally, it spoke, "Tell that the future is obscure. The wind blows too strongly, and birds' song has become foul. Unless you find Toby, all will be lost."

With these words, it turned around, leaving Sarah alone. Trembling, Sarah remained in her place, rooted to the ground, tasting the bitter bark in her mouth. It took ages until she finally was able to get up.

The journey through the forest didn't take too long. Just as the Labyrinth-creature had said, the trees shifted and straightened, revealing a way through the whispering woods. Their voices remained low and angry, and even when Sarah didn't quite understand their speech, she understood enough to realize they were furious.

Hardly able to prevent herself from sighing with relief, she finally cleared the forest, and reached its edge. Sarah stopped, savoring with her eyes the familiar viridian green, well-tended hedge plants of the Hedge Maze she saw. Clear light-blue sky bent over the hedges, and further afield the distant dark lines of the mountains emerged in the horizon.

With newly found energy, Sarah hurried down the sloping hill, over the branches and small shrubs protruding from the ground, running straight in the Hedge Maze.

The destination Hoggle had instructed her to come to was a small, secluded square within the maze with tarnished stone pillars and statues. She stopped and looked around, nervous and fearful up until she noticed Hoggle hiding behind one of the statues, a crude sculpture of a peeing dwarf. Just the mere sight of his red cap and white blouse reignited her hope.

"Hoggle!" she cried softly, and the dwarf leapt, almost turning around and running in another direction. He looked in her direction, wide-eyed. His shoulders dropped as he recognized her.

"Sarah…" Hoggle hurried to her, gripping her tightly from the hand. "Thank heavens ye're alright!" he panted and shook his head. "It's not safe. Ye have to return, immediately!"

Sarah felt the tears burning her eyes again, and the worry and freezing dread made her sway. "I cannot," she whispered hoarsely. "He's not here."

"No!" Hoggle cried, trying to pull her along. "Ye're wrong. I just saw him," he continued, dragging Sarah across the square.

Sarah stopped, pulling Hoggle to her, both terrifying hope and fear strangling her throat. "Toby?!"

"No!" Hoggle almost shouted. "The King! He knows!"

Sarah shook her head, unable to banish the nagging feeling that she shouldn't have agreed to the forest-creature's demand, should have kept her head. She moistened her lips and asked with a small voice, "What?"

Her heart froze at the sudden sound. She jerked straight, recognizing the speaker immediately, even after all these years...She shivered at that dark and husky male voice, lazy words tearing her consciousness.

"That there was a reason to follow Hogbrain."

Faintly, like behind a curtain or heavy fog she heard Hoggle's scared yelp. Sarah stared blankly ahead at the lush hedge plants, for some reason noticing the tiny white buds waiting for to blossom. Like in a dream, slowly, she turned around; and saw the Goblin King.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: As usual, I don't own the Labyrinth, and thanks, Anaknusan!

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter Six

"Oh-la-la! Isn't this just precious!" Jareth sneered. Hunched atop the head of a crumbled statue, and swinging his booted leg, he looked down at Hoggle and Sarah. The early sun's light glimmered on his fair unruly hair, errant strands framing his lanky face. The ruffled white shirt underneath his dark leather jacket hung loosely on him exposing his white skin as well as the odd half-moon crest resting on his lean chest. Sarah swallowed down a lump, and Jareth glowered as if tasting something sour when their eyes met. Tapping his chin with his finger, he moved his attention to Hoggle and shook his head. "Tsk, tsk, and right after my warning."

"Yer Majesty!" Hoggle gasped, back-stepping. "I…" The hot wind arising suddenly stirred the leaves of the hedges. Their loud rustle echoed his frightened gasp.

"Silence!" Jareth snapped, jumping off the statue. "I didn't ask you to speak!" He pulled himself straight, eyeing the dwarf coldly, and frowned. "And I don't like to have to repeat myself, Hoggart!"

"Hoggle," Sarah corrected, lifting her chin courageously as the King spun around.

"Oh, yes. Still defiant, I see," the King spat vehemently. "Apparently, unsurprisingly, nothing has changed." With a disgusted frown plastered on his face the King inspected her. His gaze didn't fail to perceive her tattered clothes and dirtied appearance, and, involuntarily, she fidgeted with the hem of her pullover. The movement didn't go unnoticed. Her cheeks flared crimson at the arrogant quirk of his brows.

"So, you returned after all," the Goblin King stated coldly after awhile. "Older maybe. But more mature?" In the pale morning his eyes shimmered with a glacial gleam and fixed on Sarah as he slowly shook his head. "Sadly, I don't think so."

"Jar…"

"Don't you even dare!" the King growled. "I didn't grant you permission to speak; didn't give you permission to come; and most certainly didn't want to find you here."

"But…"

The King threw up his hand, silencing Sarah.

"Happily, it'll be simple enough to send you back to where you came from." He bared his teeth. "Count yourself _very _lucky, Sarah." He briefly glanced at Hoggle. "Unlike your little traitorous friend here."

"She had no choice! She had to come!" Hoggle yelped as Jareth spun to him.

"And you," the King strode closer to the frightened Hoggle, who scrambled hastily out of his way, "my disloyal subject. Once again I find you plotting behind my back, even when I deliberately told you what would be the consequence."

"Don't blame Hoggle!" Sarah stepped up between the dwarf and the King. "He had nothing to do with this!"

Jareth twirled his head, his attention snared back on her. He took a step forward, and brought his face so close to Sarah's that their foreheads almost touched. The wind changed its direction flailing his ragged cape around both him and Sarah as if embracing them.

"Oh?" Arching his eyebrows, he looked at her down his nose. "Rather convenient for him to be here, wouldn't you say?" The words were more of a hiss, his lips curved in a warped sneer. He looked into her eyes, challenging her to answer.

"What?" Sarah raised her chin, leveling his mismatched gaze. "To find the gardener in his garden?"

Something fleetingly appeared on his face; and was gone. "Don't try to be funny, Sarah!" Jareth snarled, taking a step backwards. His eyes flickered and gleamed with dangerous light as he measured her. "For I'm not amused."

"I wouldn't even dare wishing that," the moment the words fled her mouth, Sarah wanted to cut off her tongue.

"At least something has been learnt," Jareth spat, his eyes crinkled in narrow lines, as he pulled himself straight. "Too bad not enough."

Sarah frowned. "Just because you're a king doesn't mean you can go on judging others as you please."

"I would take care of my words, were I you," Jareth's answered smoothly. "As you said, I'm the King of this land, you're the trespasser, and your little friend here..." He glanced at the trembling Hoggle behind her back, "will soon find out the price of crossing me twice..." He smiled cruelly.

"You leave Hoggle alone!" Sarah cried. "If you want to punish someone, then, be it me!"

"I'd be more than happy to obey this time. Too bad you're not denizen of this land, and I have to save my revenge for my gardener." He snorted, "It should teach him not to double-cross me and you to consider whom to involve in your petulant games." Casually, he waved his hand, and sparks of glimmering flock appeared at the move of his hand. "Goodbye, Sarah. Don't try to return back."

His eyes widened when nothing happened. Only the gently wind softly caressed Sarah's cheeks and swayed the Goblin King's dark cape like the tattered wings of a bat. He stared at her, narrowing his eyes, and then graced her with a calculative smile. "Well, well," Jareth sneered. "This is interesting..."

Nervously, Sarah backed away from the King, nearly stepping on Hoggle.

"Sarah!" the dwarf gasped, grasping her sleeve. "Ye didn't! Not after what I told ye!"

Sarah couldn't find the strength to look at him, transfixed by the gaze of Jareth's curious mismatched eyes.

"This changes the situation," Jareth's lazy words strained Sarah's nerves, his voice carrying a sinister undertone. "Apparently, you have no true -- desire to leave after all." He sounded smug, stripping her with a calculative stare. Sarah's face heated; the Goblin King almost seemed to see through her clothes.

"Don't count on it!" Sarah snapped, pulling herself from her reveries. The blood gushed in her ears, and she furiously blinked her eyes driving away the earlier disorientation.

"Insolent brat," Jareth hissed, his previous amusement waning as he pulled himself straight. "Luckily, I have just a right place for your kind of criminals!" He frowned. "We'll see soon enough, Sarah," he promised dangerously. "Your friend, though, may not be as lucky as you are."

The Goblin King snapped his fingers before Sarah had time to protest. Yelping, she felt the world starting to shift around her; the warm shafts of the morning sun melted away; and the impenetrable darkness surrounded her. The damp coldness seeped through her bones as she remained in her place, bewildered, blinking her eyes. Sarah's shoulders sagged when she realized where he had sent her.

Not so surprisingly, Sarah found herself in an oubliette.

Both the coldness of her present whereabouts as well as the memory of the Goblin King's final words caused her to shiver. Wrapping arms around her torso, she sighed loudly.

"Well, that went well."

The dripping sound of the falling water and her own breathing as her only companions, Sarah remained seated on the cold ground, hoping the King would allow Hoggle to explain the reason for her arrival and his actions. She sighed another time, the white angered face of the Goblin King flashing in front of her eyes, and buried her head in her hands. Sarah rather doubted that trusting in her hopes would be right. She shuddered from the cold, blowing warmth to her locked fingers, thoughtful.

Despite the fact that she had anticipated it, Sarah jolted, letting out a frightened gasp when the silent darkness was suddenly broken, "And now, Sarah."

Hastily, she scrambled to her feet, turning towards the sound. At first, her eyes saw nothing. Then a small light kindled and cast the impenetrable darkness away, revealing the Goblin King in his regal appearance. He was leaning against the moist stonewall of the oubliette and holding a crystal in his gloved hand, playing it back and forth in his fingers with a bored expression. He looked up, and Sarah's mouth dried as she forced herself to stay still, meeting his gaze.

The Goblin King lowered his hand, but the crystal he'd been toying with remained in the air. Its shine turned brighter until it illuminated the entire oubliette, revealing the dark moist walls curving around them. The magical glow left half of his face in the shadow, emphasizing the shape of his sharp nose and his gaunt features. He smiled as he noticed Sarah' defiant posture. His white-teethed smile flashed in the shadows.

"Now you tell me what exactly are you doing in my Labyrinth," the Goblin King ordered.

Sarah gulped down a lump in her throat, resisting the urge to enquire about Hoggle. Enfolding her fingers, she breathed deep, trying to calm her trembling heart. Despite the forest-creature's words, Sarah wasn't too confident the King would help her. A predatory-like expression lurked in his eyes, an unfamiliar threat she didn't remember existing earlier.

"I'm waiting, Sarah!" Jareth's voice severed her deliberations.

"Toby's disappeared," she quietly confessed. "Someone snatched him from me."

"What?" Jareth jerked up at her words, and something – a frightened expression fleetingly ran over his visage. "Toby's here?" Sarah cringed at his accusing tone as if he were blaming her.

Hastily, Sarah shook her head, and her hair flung around her face like a dark fan. "That's what I thought at first," she hesitated, pushing the errand strands of hair behind her ears and deciding otherwise than to accuse him. "But…" she fell into uncertain silence unwilling to reveal her meeting with the forest-creature.

"But what?" Jareth impatiently demanded and clenched his teeth together. Multiplied, the sound echoed in the silent oubliette. "My patience is waning quickly, Sarah!" he warned.

"A creature I met after arriving told me he's not," Sarah quickly continued, shuddering, the relentless grasp of the wooden arms still aching her throat.

"Oh?" Jareth quirked up his eyebrows. "Pray, tell more," he said smoothly. "Someone in the kingdom knows something I, the ruler of all there is, don't?"

Sarah felt the embarrassment burning her cheeks. "Don't mock me!" she snapped. "I don't know what or who it was, but it knew you!" Her voice faded at the angry look on his face. She glanced at her feet. "It told me to find Toby and tell you."

He crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm still waiting."

Sarah shrugged her shoulders, feeling embarrassed. "It said that the wind blows too hard and birds have a foul voice." She brought up her face, forcing herself to unflinchingly meet his stare. "And unless we find Toby, all's lost."

His expression remained unchanged, his voice flat. "And what kind was -- this creature?"

Sarah dampened her lip, "Odd, unfamiliar," she muttered grudgingly. "It came from the forest as it was part of the forest and land itself. The trees obeyed it." She prayed the King wouldn't inquire more.

His countenance changed. "You met it?" he asked dubious while detaching from the wall he leaned against.

"It?" Sarah repeated, perplexed, as she stepped backwards.

His brows furrowed. "The Labyrinth," Jareth sounded reluctant, and a small gasp escaped from Sarah's lips after hearing the revelation, "or some part of it at least…" Thoughtfully, he glanced into the darkness before turning to Sarah. "Assuming, I believe you…"

"But I told the truth!" Sarah exclaimed.

"So you say," Jareth retorted. "And even if you did, I'm still to decide what to do with you." He glared at her. "Don't think I'm thrilled to both find you in and be unable to throw you out of my Kingdom."

"You think I didn't realize that?" Sarah hardly hindered from snapping. She hastily continued, "Just believe this wasn't my intention."

"Yet the truth remains," Jareth scowled, "I can't be rid of you." He clasped his hands behind his back, inspecting Sarah. He sighed more to himself than to Sarah, "And now you tell me Toby's disappeared…" His expression turned thoughtful.

"So?" Sarah licked her lips, asking in a small voice. "What will you do?"

He stole a sharp glance at her. "Me?" Jareth repeated. "The question is what will _you_ do?"

"Me?" Sarah stammered. "I don't understand."

"Yes. Apparently," Jareth replied angrily. He plummeted into silence, reflecting on his thoughts. "Oh, I guess it can't be helped," the man finally muttered while running his fingers through his hair and glancing at the black oily stones above.

"What?" Sarah looked at him, suspicious of his sudden mood-change.

The small stones rattled under his boots as he sauntered closer to Sarah. "You'll be coming with me to the Goblin Castle," Jareth told her crossly while closing the distance between them. The man stopped right in front of Sarah, his clothes glimmering and glittering in the blue-tinted glow of the hovering crystal behind him. Everything about him, from his pale bony face to his dark fluttering cape, looked otherworldly and eerie, but the tone of his voice was harsh. "You'll tell me all that transpired with regards to Toby's disappearance, and only then I decide if I'll help you." After saying so, he offered his hand, and when Sarah didn't move to accept it, snapped, "Or do you prefer staying in the oubliette instead?"

"No." She shook her head.

"Then take my hand," Jareth ordered exasperatedly, "before I change my mind."

That was all Sarah needed to hear. Hastily she reached out, grasping his outstretched palm. The leather of his gloves felt cold and smooth, and his fingers wrapped around her fingers, squeezing her hand gently. Surprised, Sarah looked up. Eyes flashing, expression turning sour, he clasped his mouth tightly shut.

Sarah didn't even have time to gasp as Jareth yanked Sarah closer. She stumbled forward, seeing the world swirl in front of her eyes. The darkness was smeared with different colors; the silence of the oubliette was replaced by a cracking sound and rushing of the wind. The blood throbbed loudly in her ears, and she whimpered. The shifting of her surroundings left her breathless and light-headed, and, unnoticing, she grasped more tightly to the Goblin King's hand, clinging to it with all her might, afraid he might let her fall.

Sarah didn't even realize the land beneath her feet had stabilized as she adhered to Jareth's hand, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"We have arrived. You can let go of me now," Jareth's mocking voice made her jolt. Blushing, Sarah opened her eyes and quickly released his hand. She took a step backwards, her gaze darting around. Her heart pounded loudly and nervously in her chest at the sight of an unfamiliar room. Limestone walls, emitting coldness even the warm summer's sun couldn't banish, surrounded them. Further away arched windows revealed the sight of the blue sky, allowing the yellow shafts of the sunlight to enter the room. The decoration was ascetic, only a gilded mahogany table and few chairs leaning against the wall adorned the space. The room was as silent as it was empty.

She moved her gaze at Jareth, dampening her lip. "What?"

"I handle the questions, if I may!" Jareth snapped, spinning around and walking away. He stopped next to the table, dusting the cover with his hands, his back turned to Sarah. "You said someone kidnapped Toby." The King spoke to the air.

Sarah pursed her lips tightly together, and stared at his back with fiery eyes. "Yes," she clenched her teeth together.

"Tell me, Sarah," the King asked, his voice trembling with veiled fury as he turned to look at her and leaned against the table, folding his arms, "how's that possible?"

"How am I supposed to know!" Sarah exploded. "My life's as normal as it can be aside from my Underground friends. I doubt anyone I've worked for would be a baby snatcher! The only one doing that as his job is you!"

He narrowed his eyes while inspecting her, "Carefully, precious…"

She let his remark pass, rubbing tiredly at her eyes. The resentment faded just as fast it arrived, leaving her only drained and numb.

"I, seriously, don't know what happened. We had…an argument," Sarah shook her head, looking at Jareth, "but nothing dangerous. Toby went in my room, and when I followed him, he had vanished…" She looked at him worriedly, her earlier terror making a return. "The windows were open, and I swear I saw a bird flying away. I thought…" her voice died.

"…that it was me," Jareth completed the sentence, frowning.

Helplessly, she shrugged her shoulders. "Yes."

"I see," Jareth muttered, placing his finger on his jaw and regarded Sarah coldly. "So as only a true heroine can, you immediately called for my traitorous gardener and lured him to help you to return to Underground." Disgusted, Jareth shook his head, pulling himself straight. "To rescue your helpless little brother from the clutches of the vile Goblin King…"

"I thought it was you," Sarah defended lamely, blushing. "How was I supposed to know?"

Jareth snorted. "Just as reckless and careless as earlier." He sauntered closer, stopping only inches away from her, and something hungry flashed in his eyes as he leaned closer. "Tell me, Sarah Williams," his voice was barely a hushed whisper. "Whatever compelled you to eat anything growing in the Labyrinth? Rash you might be but not so stupid. Surely you remember what happened last time you ate provisions of my land."

The words brought a sour taste to her mouth, like a memory of over-aged peach. "That's not your business," she sulked.

"On the contrary," the King murmured softly. "Since, it changes this whole situation rather effectively."

"Yes, I know about that!" Sarah snapped, refusing to allow him to intimidate her. "I can't leave this wretched place ever again."

"Oh, not only that," the Goblin King leered, his eyes glimmering. "You see, Sarah, by doing so, you, in truth, gave up your right as the defeater of my Labyrinth, and subdued yourself under it." He smiled, yet the smile didn't reach his eyes. He continued, "Since I'm the ruler of the Labyrinth that gives me certain powers over you..." The Goblin King took a step closer, and, startled at his words, Sarah backed away staring at him wide-eyed. "And I'm not very satisfied with the end results of that little incident we shared a few years ago."

Unbelieving her ears, Sarah gaped at the Goblin King. Finally, she succeeded to stutter, "But, but Toby."

"Don't you worry," Jareth spat. "I haven't forgotten him. Ever. You kept a very good care of that, Sarah."

The words had an opposite effect on her. The sudden panic ravaged through her body, and she stiffened. "You, you, cheat!" Sarah cried furious. "You cheated me! He's here, isn't he?"

He let out an exasperated sigh, "No, Sarah. He's not here, and before you ask…Neither do I know his whereabouts. Against you beliefs, I have better things to do than snatching and watching little boys of the Aboveground."

"Yet you took Toby!" Sarah accused, and Jareth's expression turned darker.

"Only by your request," he reminded with a half-strained guffaw. "Have you seen me in your life ever since that incident?"

The words silenced Sarah, and, knowingly, Jareth flashed an obnoxious leer. He raised his hand and softly touched her chin, lifting her face. His eyes, in his sharp-angled face, bore through her. "I could always help you," Jareth stated finally, "but everything comes with a price."

"I paid my price already," Sarah whispered through her parched lips unable to rip her gaze away from the Goblin King. "I'm supposed to stay here for the rest of my life." The realization was almost too bitter to acknowledge.

"You paid your price for the land, and, frankly, I rather see you going than in my sight," Jareth dryly snorted, releasing his hold on her.

Sarah shuddered at his relentless tone and let her gaze travel to her feet, asking silently, "What do you want then?"

He didn't answer at first, and, wondering, Sarah looked up. The King stood unmoving in contemplations, and something nervous fluttered in Sarah's stomach as he shifted his attention back to her. All the previous amusement was swept away as the King opened his mouth.

"I want a compensation." His strange eyes gleamed darkly, and with his wild hair flowing around his face he looked unearthly, eerie, and scary. Sarah's stomach lurched at the hissed words that barely concealed his rage. "You defied me, you mocked me in front of my subjects, caused chaos, destroyed my city and my castle, and jeopardized the stability for all that took centuries to build."

The words didn't register at first. Sarah stared at the lanky Goblin King, mouth gaping, "You want what?" she gasped.

"You heard me right, Sarah," Jareth scowled. "I want your total humiliation."

"And only short time ago you already said I have lost my integrity by eating food of the Labyrinth," Sarah exclaimed weakly and shook her head. "As far as I know, the monarch usually has an absolute power over the people living in his country. "

"Being a citizen of Labyrinth is rather different from being subjected under my authority."

Sarah paled at the barely hidden insinuations, unwanted images flashing through her mind. She shook her head, discarding the panicked thoughts. Furrowing her forehead, she asked, "Haven't I been humiliated enough?"

"Sarah, Sarah," he laughed deridingly, flashing a warped smile at her. "Trust me. You've seen nothing yet…"

She refrained from retorting back at him and bit her lip, averting her gaze, "But you'd help me to find Toby?" she asked after awhile.

"Yes." His voice remained flat.

Sarah narrowed her eyes, turning her back on the Goblin King and chafing her temple. Her gaze wandered toward the distant arched windows. Something nagged in her mind. She shook her head, and turned slowly around. "No…" Sarah whispered, lowering her hands to her side.

He demeanor changed subtly. "No?" Jareth stood straight, inspecting her as she stood in front of him.

"As I said," Sarah repeated softly. "I won't agree to that." Swallowing, her heart beating against her chest, she met his eyes. "You'd help me even without."

"Oh, pray tell," Jareth curved his eyebrows, sounding suddenly -- amused? "What makes you think so?"

"Toby's important to you," Sarah felt all the time more certain, remembering the Labyrinth's words. "You need to find him! Not only because I ask you."

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, leveling her gaze. "You could be right," the King said softly, stepping closer. "But even if I'd help to find Toby, what makes you think I'd let him return back to the Aboveground?" He let his words sink in. "Especially, if he's important to me, as you so precariously assume…"

"You wouldn't!" Sarah gasped, back-stepping.

"Don't tempt me, Sarah" Jareth snorted. "Since you're treading on thin ice," tapping his cheek thoughtfully, the King regarded the woman in front of her. "I have a very long memory, and I quite clearly remember you being the one who offered Toby to me in the first place. And also that it was you who decide to snatch him back…" his tone turned harsher. "All I want is to have back that which you stole from me!"

"Toby's no prize!" Sarah cried, white-faced. "He's a boy who has a loving family, and whom he loves as well! You dare to steal him from them!"

"Sarah," Jareth sounded bored. "You don't get it, do you? You're in no position to make threats or demands on me." His mouth twisted into a grimace. "If you want my help and your brother returned back to the Aboveground you will accept my terms…"


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Foremost, million thanks to my ever-lovely, supporting and fantastic beta! Thanks, Anaknusan (once again) for your help. Secondly, thanks to all of you for your encouraging commenters. I hope the way I'm portraying Jareth makes sense to you. I don't really see him as a fluffy type of character, or very evil to that matter either. Also, I assure, there will be romance, and maybe a tiny-winy amount of smut too. I just have to write the story a bit further...

**Disclaimer**: Let me ask: Do you seriously think I would be writing fanfiction under a pseudonym if I owned Labyrinth?  
Riiiight....

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter Seven

"So, what will it be?" Jareth teased lightly, bending closer. "Will you risk saving your brother only to lose him again…" His sharp nose nearly touched Sarah's face. The crooked features remained as still as if they were carved in stone but the fire burning in his eyes gave away his exhilaration. "Think carefully, Sarah…"

Sarah couldn't find any words, fervently trying to formulate a way out of his demands. "What." Her voice strangled in her throat, and she swallowed down the bitter taste the trapped state of life brought to her mouth. "Will you promise you'll return Toby back to his home, to his family?" she asked after a prolonged silence.

"Sarah, you hurt me." Jareth smiled. "I'm a king after all, am I not? And if you can't trust in a king's word, then what can you?" He mocked with a voice that sounded like a sleek purr coming from his throat.

"That's hardly convincing," Sarah muttered, gaze trailing about the room, its grey cold stonewall adorned by dark web-like cracks, pale light gleaming on the surface of the coffee colored archaic furniture. Her heart fluttered like crazy, and she was certain the King heard its nervous pulse. She surely heard it.

"With that you have to be satisfied." Elegantly, Jareth shrugged his shoulders, and his gleaming pendant threw a reflection of a burning sun in her eyes, snaring her attention.

She stared at him. "But that's not," she whispered.

"Fair?" Jareth arched his eyebrows, and a ghost of a smile played in the corners of his lips.

She didn't answer, recognizing the bait in his words. "Will you promise?" Her voice trembled a little, but she refused to show the Goblin King the extent of her fears.

He frowned. "How many times do you need to hear it woman?" The voice remained dangerously low.

Sarah bit her lip. "I'm about to give up my life," on your mercy, she nearly added. "I rather have it secured that I won't be doing it for nothing."

Jareth measured her sourly, and his eyes glazed over as he leaned away from her. "You're never satisfied," the man hissed. "I'm disappointed on how little you've grown."

Sarah shook her head vigorously, almost taking a step forward yet stopping herself even before the movement actually started.

"No. That's not it…I only-"

"Really, Sarah. I'm a busy man, and I don't have all day," he interrupted.

"Please," she cringed at her own words and broken tone. Placing her hands on her temple, she tried to chase away the sprouting headache she felt coming. Things were evolving too fast for her liking. Maybe she was only dreaming? For a while, she hoped she was only imagining this surreal situation, standing in the cold and drafty room of the Goblin Castle, having her brother stolen. It were as if all her nightmares were about to come true. This couldn't happen -- not after all these years... But, stubbornly, the image of the Goblin King remained very solid, watching her with intensity, measuring her. The dark cape swayed gently behind his back, and an image from the past surfaced from her memories: He and Sarah facing each other in the dusky room with raindrops hitting against the white-framed glass doors of her parent's balcony, the thrill and the dread churning her stomach.

Quickly, Sarah averted her gaze, banishing the image, afraid the King would somehow sense her scattered frightened emotions.

"I just want to hear that Toby will be safe."

His face remained impassive, only his nostrils flared. Finally, the man snapped, "Fine. I promise you that. Once I've found Toby, I'll send him immediately to his parents. And he will be safe." Locking his teeth together, he continued, "Is this enough for your mistrustful mind?"

"Thank you." Forcing tears back, Sarah nodded weakly. Her chin drooped against her chest, and she asked with a soft voice. "What do you want me to do now?"

The smile in his voice was evident. "Say your right words." The King slowly replied, words dribbling of hardly concealed glee. Wincing, she jerked up her head and stared at him, frightened.

His smile widened, and he flashed a row of shiny teeth, sneering."It's not enough to eat from my land." The Goblin King stepped up closer, his eyes fixed on her. He leaned closer. "If you're to become one of us, forever, you need to pledge yourself to me."

It took some time the words to sink in, but once clear, she drew in a shaky breath.

The leather of his jacket creaked, and she felt his touch, feather-like, against the skin of her chin. "Go ahead, Sarah," the Goblin King urged her softly.

"I wish…"

She clenched her fist together. The fear almost made her speechless. What would the man do to her? His dark-lined, gleaming eyes that contrasted against his pallid skin and the gaunt bony features reminded her about ill-wishing sprites and feys she had read about in so many fairytales. The ethereal, an almost unnoticeable sparkle glimmering around his face and the blond uneven mane that cascaded down on his shoulder increased his inhuman-like appearance. She was ready to believe almost anything from him.

"Surely you know the rest." He mocked, letting his hand to fall down, watching her with luminous alien-like eyes. "I remember very clearly you utter the same phrase years ago."

"I wish." Sarah hardly recognized her own voice, yanking in a deep breath of air. "The goblins would come and take me away."The content was written everywhere in his face, and, trembling, she squeezed her hands so tightly together the sickles of her nails bore through her skin. Oblivious to the pain, Sarah gulped a mouthful of air and finished the sentence. "Right now."

Yet the same wind kept on blowing in the room, arriving through the arched windows and gently stroking her hair and her skin while carrying the birds' distant chirping and faint clattering and thumping like someone chopping firewood or banging a hammer. The man and the woman remained alone, facing each other in the cold and shadowy room somewhere in the Goblin Castle. Nothing changed and still everything was different. Sarah felt rather than saw it: the shift taking place around her. In her and her world. A faint lurch in her stomach, a small tug within her told something changed if not the Goblin King's expression before that. The man looked so pleased with himself, Sarah felt sick.

"Now, it wasn't so difficult, or was it?" Jareth's eyes flickered of self-satisfaction he didn't even bother to hide. Mutely, she only cast down her eyes.

"What?" he teased.

Sarah let the air to escape her lungs as he answered in a loud puff. "No."

"No what?"

Her teeth clasped loudly, and she tasted iron, biting in her own flesh. The blood infiltrated her mouth, flavoring her words with bitterness as she, hissing and still staring at the ground, added. "Your majesty."

Sarah rather heard than saw him relaxing. His clothes shifted at the change of his breathing, and he took a step backward.

"And now, Sarah" Jareth's voice was cold, "I want to hear everything."

"Everything?"

He clasped his mouth in a tight line. "I'm not interested in your life, Sarah."

She cringed at his tone, and a sudden twinge nicked her somewhere between her heart and her throat.

"I want to hear all that happened since Toby's disappearance."

She glanced around, thinking, and finally shrugged her shoulders, for what else was there to do? And if it would urge him to look for Toby… "From where I should I start?" she asked quietly.

He didn't reply at first, sauntering toward the table before turning to look at her. "My precious, Sarah." His mouth twitched as he noticed Sarah shifting uncomfortably at the words. "Where else but from the beginning…naturally."

If Sarah was surprised of the level of how well the Goblin King could listen to her uninterrupted, she found it harder to realize the King genuinely was worried. Realizing it, made her feel somewhat better. Maybe the King would truly help her after all? Sometimes she noticed his eyes widening as if he were surprised though she couldn't decide if she only imagined seeing his reaction. At least one thing became evident the further her story progressed: the King didn't know Mr. Hoopoe. He kept on inquiring about him, his looks and his words. And when she started describing how she called for the messenger god to take her to the Underground, something akin to amusement briefly shadowed his face. Sarah, however, skipped the last bits of Hermes' offer, noticing, during her monologue, a dangerous glint that appeared in the King's eyes.

When she finished at last, all her energy was sapped, and her throat felt sore from too much talking. She observed the man wearily, with an unpleasant feeling in her stomach as the nervousness started playing pinball with her organs.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jareth leaned against the table. "My, you've been busy," the man muttered, regarding her slowly. "With peculiar book-sellers, magic cloths, and lustful gods it almost appears," he nearly smirked though there was a dangerous edge in his voice -- almost like bitterness? "…your life to be eventful without the Underground and tell-tale fantasies you used to tell to yourself."

Sarah didn't answer, and he pulled himself straight. "Yet, the true problem lies that you so carelessly allowed your brother to be stolen from you."

"I beg your pardon!" Sarah resisted.

"Don't try to deny it, Sarah," Jareth snapped. "He was on your responsibility and you let him be stolen."

"He was in my home!" Sarah protested faintly. "No one entered there during the time, I'm certain. He was safe!"

"And still someone took him," Jareth sneered.

"And just how did you think I'd been able to detect that?" Sarah asked jadedly. "I heard no sound. Saw no one entering my apartment."

"Hmm," he only replied, glancing out the window. "A pity you gave away the cloth this mute woman gave to you…"

"It was my only change to," Sarah answered quietly and shuddered, "be spared from paying another price."

"Yes, I can believe he had his eyes all over you from the first moment." The King let out a dry snort, returning his attention back to her. "Old gods are notorious from their lack of subtlety and tact though I'm neither surprised about you refusal. You've taken quite a habit of turning others down, it seems."

She eyed him coldly, but her voice was coated with sugar when she spoke, "You must be talking about your own experiences…"

"Careful, precious," Jareth silkily replied. "I'm your king now."

"And you promised to find Toby," Sarah reminded, the unfamiliar sense of urgency forcing her to speak aloud.

"All in due time," Jareth snorted. "Before acting rashly I want to know what there's to know." That same, almost-dangerous gleam appeared in his eyes. "I've learnt my lesson."

"But I've told you what I know!" Sarah forced her eyes shut, powerless against the King's accusations.

He took a deep breath. "Then I don't need you any longer."

What did he mean by that? She warily watched him and asked finally with a small amount of crabbiness lingering in her voice. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me right, Sarah. You're dismissed."

"I'll be damned!" she exploded. Just who did he think he was? "You owe me at least that much."

"I owe you nothing!" Somehow, he was next to her from across the room. Sarah didn't even see him moving, yet now he stood only inches away from her with a white and rigid face. Gasping, Sarah backed away. She remembered all too well her encounter with the incarnated Labyrinth, and there was something very much akin to that in the King's expression.

"Sarah Williams, it's time for you to realize this: I owe you nothing," the man hissed.

She reached the wall, feeling the cold stones pressing against her back as she stared at the furious Goblin King. His eyes gleamed as he bent so close to her his mouth nearly touched her face. "You gave up all your rights to demand anything from me only moments ago." The Goblin King snarled, forcing her to lift her chin up while looking into her eyes. "Never again forget that, Sarah."

She didn't dare to voice a word, neck tilted in awkward position with her blood rushing though her veins and her pulse thumping against the gloved hands of the Goblin King. His grip tightened around throat, preventing her from swallowing, and she stared at the man, terrified. Unexpectedly, he released her, stepping back.

"You would do well to remember this, Sarah." The King's eyes were just depthless pools of darkness as he hissed, "You might be stuck in the Labyrinth but I will see to that you'll never call this place a home."

"And am I now supposed to be sad because of that?" Answering sourly, Sarah rubbed her sore neck. Her skin throbbed where the King's glove-clad fingers had pressed her.

His eyes narrowed. "Don't tempt your luck," he warned. "I won't tolerate disrespect from any of my subjects nor do I abide any slothfulness. Expect your work as a servant wench to start immediately!"

"I assume you want me to broom your royal arse in that case?" Sarah hissed, unable to prevent herself any longer.

"Get lost, Sarah!" the King snarled, pulling himself straight. "Or I'll forget that I just made a deal with you."

She escaped the room before he could hurl more insults or accusations on her with unshed tears stinging her eyes. Whatever had made him so cruel? Sarah wiped angrily at her face, shivering. The grey stones breathed coldness upon her as she wandered aimlessly through the empty corridors.

Her steps led her to an empty bench on a small balcony behind an arched doorway. She glanced around and, when she saw no one, sat down. Resting her chin against the palm of her hand, she stared with tear-dazed eyes over the courtyard at the distant forms of the maze she remembered solving years ago. Another sigh escaped her -- just like her victories. She squeezed her eyes tightly together, repressing a shudder. The Goblin King had finally succeeded. She had lost to him, his Kingdom hated her, and she had doomed her friend. Sarah didn't know what the King had done to Hoggle but there remained little of hope she would ever again see Hoggle's round face in front of her or hear his advice. How could she ever tell this to Didymus or Ludo?

"They'll never forgive me!" Sarah let out a muffled sob. The tears emerged, cascading down her cheek and falling to the ground. The finality of her actions throbbed in her head, and leaning forward, she sighed, "Oh, what have I done…?"

A long time might have passed or no time at all, when her contemplations were interrupted.

"Miss?"

Startled, she sat up, wiping hastily at her moist cheeks, and looked down toward the squeaky tired-sounding voice that had spoken. Sarah blinked. A small black-and-white haired goblin was leaning against the stonewall, eyes drooping, almost snoring. It yawned.

"Miss should." He yawned again, whisking a turf of fur from his eyes. "…come."

"To where?" She hesitated, a memory of the King's vehement words echoing in her ears, and glanced around, half-expecting to see the King lurking somewhere behind the corner. To her relief, she saw no sight of the King or his white owl-shaped form for that matter. Only dark rooftops of the Goblin City beyond the castle walls shimmered in the pale light of the Underground's daylight.

"The King told to get Miss. Miss works now," the goblin replied.

"No doubt I will love the task he'd planned for me..." she muttered darkly, dusting off her hands on her jeans and rising to her feet.

He shrugged his shoulders without answering and, turning clumsily around, started limping inside the castle. Sarah stopped, narrowing her eyes. The goblin dragged his other leg behind him, swaggering ungracefully across the floor. Sarah had never seen such bad splayfoot, or limping. The leg looked like the bone had shattered too many times never ever having enough time to heal. She shivered, hearing a loud rasp against the stone floor as the goblin swept the dusty corridor with his leg like it were some sort of grotesque broom. Sarah heard him yawning another time.

He stopped, glancing over his shoulders, and noticed Sarah staring at him. "Miss comes," the goblin commanded wryly, feebly attempting to pull his leg next him and make it appear straighter.

Sarah shook her head. "You still haven't said what I'm supposed to do."

His face twisted, the mouth pulled into an ugly leer, and he groomed the stubborn pile of hair from his eyes another time. "Don't know," he muttered resentfully.

"Don't know or won't tell?" Sarah folded her arms across her chest. "I don't follow you anywhere until I hear where you're taking me – King's orders or not!"

He frowned and his movements turned sluggish, almost desperate. "Won't, won't, wont'," he muttered. "Won't tell. They never tell. Always Itys just fetch, Itys go. Itys's here and there. Never knows. Always so, but Itys never knows," he ranted, grasping on his head and shaking it vigorously. Wide-eyed, Sarah stared as the creature begun to bang his head against stonewall. The loud thumping bounced back-and-forth, rhythmically. She winced at the sound and unable to allow the small goblin to punish himself so cruelly hurried to him.

"Hey, cut it out!" she cried, grasping his shoulder and forcing him to cease his desperate attempts to slice open his skull. She dragged him further from the wall. "You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep going on like that," she scolded him gently, giving the dazed goblin a worried look. "You hear me?"

He returned her stare, gasping, "Miss Sarah doesn't want Itys to get hurt?" There was a note of utter amazement and awe in his voice, and the brightness of his red eyes grew stronger.

Instead of answering, she released her grasp and back-stepped, asking, "You know me?"

He shook his head. "Everybody knows Miss Sarah!" he told, lowering his voice. "Miss's very famous in the Underground. Caused more mess than goblins in hundred years."

"Oh," Sarah blushed. "Thanks, I guess."

"Miss Sarah comes now," Itys insisted, grasping her from the arm and pulling her with him. Sighing, she gave in and allowed the little creature to lead her away from the small balcony to whatever trial the King had planned for her behalf.

Sarah's fears were proven right. Holding her nose, she stared at the huge hole in the floor, back at Itys and another goblin, who both were inspecting her reaction keenly, and then back at the hole. "And tell me just what exactly am I supposed to do here?" She spun around and looked at the goblins with a disgusted frown on her face. The room smelled at least as bad as the toilets of the bars after 4 am - if not worse.

The other goblin jiggled his ears. Sweeping his hands to the dirty leather overalls that provided him hardly any protection from the stench and the dirt of the room, he looked down at his hands and the parched wrinkled paper he held upside down. He read aloud, apparently very proud about his talents, "The cleaning day. Cleaner: Sarah Williams."

"You got to be kiddin' me, right?" she asked tiredly, turning to Itys. "This has to be a joke."

Itys blinked. "Itys never jokes," he argued meekly.

"You got that right," the other goblin snorted. Poking the little Itys with his dirty fingers, he left dark oily marks in his fur. "Quite a feign for a goblin. Wonder if you're even a true one."

"Hey!" Sarah snapped, stepping up. "Pick someone of your own size and leave him alone!" she commanded.

The goblin just gave her an ugly frown. "Like you?"

"You watch your words, mister…goblin!" Sarah shook her finger in front of his face and let out a scared yelp when the creature suddenly jumped up scrunching his teeth together. She pulled herself upright, snatching her hand quickly back to herself before the goblin succeeded in sinking his teeth into her flesh. The clasp played a loud pinball in the space as he bit air instead of her fingers.

"Monster!" she hissed, rubbing her palm protectively.

"Don't fret!" the goblin snorted. "Be happy you still have your hand." He gave her a sly look. "Cleaning the garbage chute can be a quite nasty task with bleeding fingers…"

Sarah frowned at the obnoxious creature, placing her hands on her hips. "You can forget about it!" she snapped. "I'm not going to do that!"

"You're certain?" the other goblin asked with a gleeful glint in his eyes.

"No!" Itys cried frantically, taking a step forward. "Lady shouldn't defy the King. He wants…"

"Oh, be quiet, you rotten no-good-a-goblin!" the other goblin cut him short, slapping Itys with a casualness one could only master in many years. With a similar flippancy, Itys squeaked, and throwing his arms to protect his face, bent over.

"Itys' sorry, Itys' sorry!" he started ranting, sagging his body, and Sarah's eyes flamed from annoyance. "Itys will be silent."

"And better be good," the goblin spat.

"Hey you!" She stepped closer to the other goblin, mindful not to extend her hand too close to the creepy little creature and its pointed yellow teeth. "Stop that this instant!"

"Ha!" the goblin only leered, stuffing his hands in his overalls and lifted his chin. His black eyes glinted darkly as he returned her stare. "Go ahead. Make my day and make me!"

"You asked for this," Sarah muttered under her breath, leaning over the goblin. She didn't even scratch the goblin's tail. Cackling, the creature sprinted to run and flashed faster her eye could perceive to the shadows of the corners, leaving her to shove for empty air instead of the wedges of his hairy ears.

"Stupid clumsy human!" She heard his voice from the shadows, laughing. "We'll be having a swell time with you in the castle!"

She didn't pay any more attention to the annoying little goblin. Instead, shaking her head, Sarah knelt down next to Itys and gently touched his shoulders. "Are you alright?"

He jarred his hands half-open, peeking through his fingers at her.

"He's gone now." Sarah encouraged him, and Itys sniffed, slowly lowering his arms to his sides and stole a curious glance at her. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" She worried, but Itys only shook his head and looked down, sweeping the floor with his healthy leg. The gesture reminded Sarah sharply of her brother when the kid was feeling uncomfortable and anxious. She shoved the memory of Toby hastily away, not willing to dwell in her worry for him. _But…_ Sarah creased her brows at the sudden realization; remembering the goblins were all just a bunch of small kids: alone, abandoned and lacking someone to love. Itys too, no doubt, had once been a boy of Toby's age. She nearly ruffled his hair just to assure the small goblin that everything was fine but decided against that. Itys was not her brother. He was Jareth's minion. Even if he was apparently a simple-minded one and bullied by other goblins, she ought to remember he was not her friend. Sarah scrambled back to her feet.

"What did you mean by saying I shouldn't defy the Goblin King?" she asked after awhile.

Itys glanced around, hesitating. He took a step closer. "Itys knows he waits for the miss to say 'no'." The goblin nodded reassuringly. "Itys knows," he repeated quietly, gently rubbing his twisted leg, apparently unconscious of the gesture.

She froze and nervously glanced about, gulping down a painful lump in her throat. The King expected her to decline? Uninvited, memories from a lecture she attended during her studies returned back to her mind, prickling her skin. Sarah had nearly vomited in her lap during the lecture and had to escape the classroom when the teacher reached from his list of twenty most used torture items item number six: breast ripper. Sarah still remembered the image of the cast iron sphere with sharp spikes attached to it like teeth of a hungry mouth. Oblivious to her own reaction, Sarah covered her mouth, worried. Would the King be capable of such cruelty?

Her shoulders sagged, and she brought her gaze back to the stinking and dirty hole in the floor. One thing was sure, compared to possibilities her imagination was creating in front of her eyes, cleaning a garbage chute wasn't that bad job after all.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Again, as always, a huge thanks to Anaknusan! You rock! Also thank you all for your comments. They make my day every time!

And the obligatory disclaimer applies...I do not own Labyrinth or its characters. I have written the story only for enjoyment and fun.

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter Eight

Sarah's sneakers slipped against the slimy walls as she, holding desperately on the ropes tied around her body, slid down the chute. "No offence, but I thought you had the Bog for this kind of stuff..."

Itys peeked down from the brim of the pit. "The Bog?" his voice rung sharply in the pit, and Sarah glanced up, the echo of his words resonating in her ears.

_Bog. Bog. Bog…_

"Miss Sarah's above the Bog," he continued.

"Above?" she gasped and regretted it immediately. The foul vinegary-like stench of dirty underwear, rotten meat and vegetables nearly smothered her, and she swallowed down a vomit she felt creeping on her throat. With a choke, Sarah grasped on the ropes more tightly and crammed her eyes shut. She dangled in mid-air, holding very still, dead silent, before finding the courage to peek down, and gagged another time. Twirls of mist like a translucent veil of poisonous gas dispersed momentarily, revealing the mouth of the pit beneath her and black dead boughs of the trees the toxic environment had withered and killed over time. If possible, the disgusting smell got stronger.

"Oh, no…" She shivered, squeezing the ropes more tightly. If they were to break down...

Unexpectedly, a loud screech, a sound of someone opening a crammed door, tore through the loaded silence of the garbage chute. Clouds of red flecks rained down. _Rust_, she realized as she stretched her arm forward to catch the floating substance and thoughtfully rubbed her fingers together, feeling the slippery metallic material against her skin. She glanced up at the sound of snickering. Just below Itys' white-streaked head, in the gleaming clammy wall, a small hatch hung half-loose. As she watched, a furry face peeped out: a tiny goblin with round cheeks and big dark eyes. He stared at Sarah, who dangled just below the hatch. Sarah blinked, and the goblin repeated the gesture. She could have though him cute without the half-mad grin stretching from corner-to-corner on his face. The goblin put two fingers into his mouth and let out a sharp whistle.

Two other goblin faces appeared the next instant next to him. Silently, they stared at each other: Sarah swaying in the air, and the goblins in the safety of their small grotto. Then the small goblin grinned at her with all of his yellow razor-sharp teeth. With a wave of a hand he pulled back inside, and the other goblins stepped closer to the brim of the hatch dragging something in their hands. She saw a black cover of a huge bucket.

"No!" Sarah barely had time to scream when they tipped a rain of smelly, black liquid on her.

The group cheered with laughter, the hatch slammed shut with a loud bang, and they left her alone.

Sputtering and trying to hold back the acid taste rising to her mouth, Sarah clung to the ropes while suppressing the tears burning her eyes. The black smelly water oozed out of her hair and soaked clothes. This couldn't be happening! He had said he wanted to humiliate her, but this…this was worse she could have ever imagined.

"Miss should hurry!" Apparently indifferent of what had transpired, Itys shouted at her. Sarah sent daggers at the little creature and froze when he continued, "The trash taps will soon be opened!"

She noticed then dozens of similar bronzed hatches around her. Shuddering, she sniffed, wiping her face and reached for the broom tied behind her back.

After a smelly eternity, Sarah climbed out of the shaft with her hair and clothes still dripping of black foul juice. Her eyes burned in resentment, and she clasped her teeth together, staring at Itys. "I want to wash," Sarah spoke in a dangerously low voice, "right now!"

The place, silently gushing fountain in the courtyard, maybe wasn't the best spot but with little options left she had to satisfy with that. At her request, spoken through clenched teeth, Itys hurried to fetch for her a broken bucket and a piece of soap. The little goblin also found somewhere a mismatched pair of relatively clean socks, pink-colored underpants with "My Little Pony" embedded in them and grey patched dress into which she doubted she would barely fit.

The goblin left her tactfully alone as she set on for a task to get most of the black debris out of her and her clothes. Despite the fact that she scrubbed her hair five times with soap, she still thought she could discern a lingering smell of garbage in her skin and hair. Even though she had scrubbed some off her clothes, it had not been enough to salvage them. Sarah sighed, fidgeting with a huge riff in her knitwear. The underwear, her sneaker and her jeans were as good as gone.

"The King! The King!"

Sarah screamed in fright, yanking her waterlogged shirt to cover her breasts, when she heard an unfamiliar voice screaming at her; without her noticing another goblin had sneaked next to her.

"What now?" she snapped, her mood turning foul and looked down. "Don't tell me there's another chute he wants me to clean!"

The goblin, a filthy little creature with a bronze pot as a helmet and black slimy rat-like thin tail, fluttered his eyes, looking at her innocently. But his eyes gleamed in a way Sarah realized she shouldn't have said that aloud. "The King wants to see you," he told her instead.

"He'd found Toby!" Sarah cried, almost letting go of the blouse. Just a nick of time, she remembered it was the only thing preventing the testy little creature from seeing her naked. "Umm, I come as soon as I'm dressed…" she mumbled uneasily. "Can you wait somewhere else?"

"I stay," the goblin crossed his arms, sensing her distress. He leered at her, answering, "The King told to fetch Sarah immediately. Mikos's a good goblin. He obeys."

"Whatever…" Sarah sighed, looking up to the cloudless sky and noticed then a brooding crow sitting on the shoulder of a dwarf statue. She jolted, momentarily taken by the sight. The bird croaked at her in a low threatening voice, eyes just a gleaming void of blackness in its head, its beak gleaming in the shafts of the day.

"Shoo!" She plunged out her tongue at the bird, flapping her hand. The crow croaked another time, jumping off from the statue. Only a flustering of his wings rustled in her ears, and the bird was gone, flying from the courtyard toward the Labyrinth and the dark lines of mountain.

Sarah turned away, shrugging her shoulders. At least, she could be happy it wasn't the King.

"Toby?" Sarah inquired after entering the King's study, searching the man with her gaze.

Unlike the room she'd been in earlier that day, this was a crowded room with exclusive paintings on the wall and packed book shelves. The gilded furniture appeared extensive and luxurious; dark-red drapes hung on the windows, and soft rugs covered the grey stone floor. Her eyes hooked on the King standing by the window with his back turned to her. His raggedy-like cape swayed behind his back, and the sparkles and the glitter embedded in him glimmered distinctively. At the sound of her voice, he slowly turned around.

With her cheeks burning crimson at the mocking quirk of his brows she imagined seeing on his scrawny face, Sarah compelled herself to remain unmoving. Her hands itched to cover the tattered blemished gown she was now wearing; knowing very well, Sarah's face darkened, she looked like a barefooted rag-doll in her drenched hair, too short dress and the only sweater she succeeded to salvage from her clothes.

"You've found him already?" she asked instead.

"Patience is a virtue, and apparently an unknown concept to you," Jareth dryly commented with a deliberate delight still flickering in his eyes.

Her heart fell in her chest; the disappointed nearly strangled her voice. "Frankly speaking, I couldn't come up with other reasons for you to call me," Sarah muttered reluctantly

The King shrugged without answering, turning around, and walked toward a small table. "Come and look, Sarah," he ordered, uncaring to check if she obeyed. "This is my scrying glass. It shows me what I wish to see, and when I wish to see." His voice was soft as he stared at the gleaming surface of a glass bowl filled with quicksilver-like liquid.

"Why do you use crystals in that case?" Sarah asked, taking a careful step closer. "Only for illusion?"

He glanced at her, and something, a fleeting ghost of a smile tugged in the corner of his mouth -- and vanished.

"However, there are limitations to what I can scry," he went on.

"And?" Sarah reached the Goblin King and the light wooden bench with a silver bowl resting atop it.

"I want something of or from Toby. In order to make the spell strong, I need to have something that belongs to him: a cloth, a piece of hair, a picture of him," Jareth said

Sarah hesitated, tugging her hands in her pocket and probing it through.

"I snatched a photo of him with my phone," Confessing softly, she jiggled the cellphone in her hand and noticed without a surprise the lack of reception. To her relief, the cell worked otherwise as she shuffled through the settings and opened her image gallery. The picture was from the harbor with Toby making funny face at her. Tears stung in her eyes, and quickly she handed the phone to Jareth. "Is this good enough?"

"It's new?" Jareth asked, looking at the picture a long time with an odd expression on his face, almost rueful.

"Took it today, in the morning." She folded her hands, fidgeting her fingers nervously. "Is it okay?"

He didn't answer with his eyes fixed on the image. Only by great strength did he succeed in ripping his gaze from the picture and turning to Sarah, opening his mouth. Instead of answering, he only inclined his head as in approval and turned back to his scrying glass.

Extending his hand, Jareth's shoulders tensed, and Sarah sighed loudly when a crystal appeared to his fingers; not an empty bubble or a mere light ball she had seen him producing earlier. The crystal was like the one she's seen years ago, when she had whisked Toby to the goblins, just before her drugged dream. The crystal reflected a transparent image; Sarah gulped, recognizing the picture of her brother.

Jareth's hand fell but the crystal remained in the air rotating softly around its axis and revealing also the limitations of magic. Like the original image, Toby in the crystal remained two-dimensional. Toby's smiling eyes perpetually returned Sarah's gaze despite the fact that the crystal kept on spinning around, and created an oddly disorienting and slightly nauseous image of Toby having nothing but a face.

Hesitantly, Sarah looked at the scrying glass. Her own reflection returned her stare, and she furrowed her forehead, doubtful. The item didn't look like anything special: just a glass bowl filled with some sort of water. Sarah's contemplations were broken with a sudden movement of Jareth next to her; she cried softly.

"For heaven's sake, woman," Jareth snorted, giving her a nasty glance. "Try to rein your paranoia. I'm not doing anything to you yet."

"That's hardly convincing," Sarah muttered but the man didn't answer. He slowly slid his palm over the bowl and straightened. Like released from invisible straps, the hovering crystal plummeted down, into the bowl. She back-stepped, expecting the crystal to cause the water to splash around but nothing happened: the surface remained just as smooth, even and ripples. Curious, she bent closer with an unwavering attention. The clear liquid transformed to opaque. Like a mass of clouds, darkness slid over the silver-clear surface, hiding hers and Jareth's reflections, and coated the liquid in obscurity.

Jareth narrowed his eyes and hissed something under his breath.

Steamy faint fingers of mist rose from the bowl, slithering and slinking through the air like grey tentacles, folding around Sarah and Jareth and concealing the outlines of the King's room.

She stared into the bowl through the whirling locks of gauzy mist but her eyes perceived nothing. Her eyes narrowed, and she turned to Jareth, opening her mouth. Words never came out. The perspiration pearled on the King's forehead, and he breathed raggedly. His eyes had turned nearly black, and his whole body trembled. Suddenly, he twisted as if in pain.

"Jareth!" Sarah cried, placing her hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

Her touch seemed to break the spell. He started and snapped his head in her direction, the pitch-black darkness of his eyes prickling the hair on her neck. He snarled, baring his teeth, and snatched his arms further from her.

"Don't touch me!" he hissed.

"I'm sorry," Sarah apologized, shivering at his sudden transformation. "I got worried." Her voice faded at his expression.

The man regarded her with his brows in deep furrows. He didn't reply, breathing heavily, apparently exhausted. "Something's blocking me," he replied in a thoughtful voice.

"Blocking?" she repeated, biting her lip, and jerked up her head.

At her gesture, his eyes thinned; a rapacious expression slid over his face, and, for a moment, there was a trace of wildness, desire and something -- dark. The façade shattered. With a long sigh, his expression turned tired.

"As I said," he repeated, running his glove-clad fingers through the flocks of his errand hair. "Someone has placed strong wards around the boy. I can't see through them," he muttered.

"But can't you break them?"

He glanced at her sharply. The corner of his mouth twitched sourly, and an angry glint appeared in his eyes. "You saw what happened just a moment ago."

"You're saying there's nothing you can do? Please, Jareth…" Disappointment churned her chest.

He took a long breath. His gaze flickered as he watched her, and Sarah's heartbeats accelerated as she returned his gaze. "I guess I could try something else." Jareth muttered at last and turned back to the bowl.

This time something appeared. The darkness gave way to a bright nearly transparent clearness. The steaming mist vaporized, and her mouth fell down as she heard her own voice echoing in the room.

"…half-brother."

And then Sarah saw familiar view of her living room reflected by the scrying glass. Paling, she recognized the scene with her and Toby sitting on her couch.

"I'm sorry, Toby! I didn't mean that!" the other Sarah apologized but the boy only frowned and looked at Sarah furiously while jumping to his feet.

"Sure you did."

She heard his voice, and her heart ached when she recognized the emotions playing over his face: anger, resentment and hurt.

"You're such a prig, Sarah!" Toby moved as trying to hit her with a book he held in his hands and cursed. "Up yours!"

Did she hear Jareth chuckling? She didn't dare steal a glance at him with her eyes fixed on the sight in front of her.

She saw herself aligning straighter and speaking up. But Toby only snapped back at her, and then she heard those dreadful words once again in her ears. Sarah closed her eyes, knowing that the Goblin King was seeing and hearing all with her.

"_You know, Sarah, were I to wish you to goblins, I wouldn't even bother running through Labyrinth. I rather take my dreams than you!"_

From there on the image shifted and changed, showing Toby to storm away and leave Sarah alone on the couch. The boy running through the small entry hall. The planks creaking underneath his hasty steps as he pushed the door open and entered her room. Toby slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against the white painted cover, frowning. He clenched his fists.

"Stupid! Stupid!" he ranted under his breath, staring at his feet. "And stupid Sarah!" he spat. Actually, 'stupid Sarah' was the mildest of the terms escaping his lips. Sarah stared into the bowl shocked by the words her brother used with such an ease she knew for certain he wasn't saying them for a first time. And he was only 12 years old!

"Rather colorful language," Jareth commented amused. "Wonder where he's learnt all those terms."

"Not from me," Sarah didn't bother to be offended by his words. "I haven't lived at home for the last eight years," she muttered with her gaze fixed on Toby as he hurled himself on her bed. The springs moaned beneath him and quieted as he laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. She tried frantically to calculate the time that had transpired between their argument and the moment she got up from the sofa, and came to Toby.

Toby ruffled his head and rolled on his stomach, gazing towards the still closed window.

Her eyes narrowed as she expected to see the person who abducted her brother.

Instead, the image shifted, trembled, and disappeared.

"No!" Sarah cried desperately, hearing through her own voice the low cursing next to her: Jareth. "What happened?" She turned to Jareth.

His face was ashen as he stared into the bowl, muttering, "He -- or she has taken excellent precautions. Even time has been covered." He turned to look at Sarah.

"Then…" Strength left Sarah's body, "you can't find him?"

"Don't be an idiot! It doesn't become you!" Jareth snapped though he didn't appear as confident as previously. "It's only matter of time and patience."

"Tell me. What will happen if you don't find Toby?" Sarah asked quietly.

His eyes darkened. "Why are you suddenly so concerned?" Jareth snapped.

"And why aren't you telling me?"

With a curious glance, Jareth furrowed his forehead. "Since that's none of your concern," he answered in a low voice.

Sarah froze, odd tingling rushing through her body. _Lie! lie! lie! lie!_ Every fiber in her body cried to her with so strong a feeling, her legs nearly gave out on her. She gasped, blinking furiously. _What was that? _No time to think now, Sarah shook her head.

He strode next to her with one swift step, bending closer, "Rest assured, Sarah," Jareth hissed staring into her eyes. "I will find your brother. And when I do, I'll send him straight to his parents as agreed." He straightened, glancing at the dark rooftop and gilded chandelier. "Until then, I expect you to obey my orders and do your work."

"As the castle's junk lady?" She couldn't prevent her snappy remark.

The amusement was written everywhere in his face as he looked at her. "Consider it as a welcoming present…" He grinned wolfishly. "Though I admit, I was disappointed you so meekly agreed to your task. The Sarah I knew wouldn't have." He tsk'ed, tilting his head and watching her with veiled eyes. "I am disappointed." He sounded surprised. "Where's the spirit, Sarah? Where's the fire?"

She clenched her teeth together and pulled back her shoulders. "Unlike others, I grew up."

He regarded her silently, sighing, "What a pity…" He inhaled deeply and turned his face away towards the window. "Leave now," Jareth said resignedly his back turned to her. "I'm exhausted and have but little patience with you."

She obeyed, almost.

Sensing her lingering presence, Jareth twirled around. His eyes narrowed, and he looked at her exasperatedly. "What now?"

"I…" Sarah hesitated. "What did you do to Hoggle?"

His brows jolted up in surprise. "Losing yourself over such a scum?" he mocked.

"Hoggle's no scum!" Sarah snapped. "He's my friend, and I love him!" His eyes darkened at her words, but Sarah didn't care. "Tell me you didn't kill him!"

"Demanding things again?" he asked with his voice only a dangerous hiss, "My, you are a slow learner…"

She suppressed the shudder, returning his glare. "And I would be despicable person if I didn't care about my friends. Hoggle's innocent! He only wanted to help me to find Toby."

"And neither of you," Jareth snarled, "thought about contacting me first…" He shook his head with annoyance. "The dwarf at least should have realized…" Jareth clasped his mouth tightly shut, preventing himself from continuing whatever he was about to say. He studied Sarah for a moment, his pale lips drawn in a thin line. "I warned him," the man hissed. "He knew the penalty, knew the Law. Whatever was his intention, I cannot overlook constant breaking of the rules. I am the King; I have a kingdom to protect. I have to keep my words."

Sarah's feet wobbled. "You killed him?" she whispered.

Snorting, he replied, "Sarah, I don't give death sentences without a very good reason." His eyes grew dark, and he leaned closer, "though I admit that I was tempted…"

She retreated, gasping, "He-he's alive?"

His mouth twitched. "Yes," Jareth spat. "I spared your pitiful little dwarf-friend's life." He straightened, staring at her with contempt. "But, as I said, he broke the law even when I deliberately warned him." He waited a moment, but when Sarah didn't say anything, continued, "He has been expelled from his duty, his home and this country." Jareth's eyes drew toward the window and the peaks of the mountain line. "I banished him to the Black Widow's Mountain."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Again, million thanks to my fantastic beta, Anaknusan, and all of you for your encouraging comments. I'm finally returning my full attention back to the story in the hope of finishing it soon. You can expect updates more often in the future. No, I still don't own the Labyrinth.

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter Nine

_Swarming in the corners of the dry dust-covered room, the dark shadows looked ready to prey on him. The fingers of the red tinted light of the setting sun entered the room through the windowpanes, painting the walls in blood red. All around, he heard odd voices: croaking, crying, and cooing. He perked his head, discerned the sound of heavy breathing…His heart raced in his chest so quickly it caused physical pain. If he had been able, he would have whimpered when a huge shadow materialized in front of him. A hand, filled with scratches, an array of fine lines of healed scars -- a killer's hand -- stretched forward from the door of his cage, reaching out for him. He retreated. The hand shouldn't touch him; it reeked of wrongness, old magic and blood. He almost fell from the raft, and cried as the fingers curled around him, the pressure squeezing the air from his lungs. The grip tightened, the warmth of the hand's owner burnt him; and he screamed. _

_He screamed, screamed and screamed, and screamed, and screamed…_

"Toby!" Sarah's cried, flinging her eyes open and gasping for air. She stared at the ceiling, disoriented, not remembering at first where she was and what had happened. Then, the memories flooded over her. Suffocating a moan, she covered her mouth and forced back the tears, realizing she had another day of torment ahead of her.

The goblins proved more bothersome than she could ever have predicted. They were nothing like in her memories, teasing her, pulling her hair and forcing her to do the most humiliating tasks. Whether they had conjured the idea by themselves or if it had been Jareth, she couldn't tell, but their pranks only got worse after the incident in the garbage chute.

Groggily, Sarah scrambled up, rubbing her eyes and banishing the worry from her mind and wincing from the pain in her sore muscles. The memory of her nightmare still lingered in her mind, flickering images of scars, birds and blood. She chafed her head, trying to remember the details but the images slipped away like they were covered in oil, fading further, until only nagging worry remained in the back of her mind.

She barely prevented herself from rushing in the direction of Jareth's study immediately, eager to hear if he had succeeded in finding Toby already. However, the grim-faced goblin steward appeared to sense her thoughts and kept her under his sharp scrutiny until midday. She finally succeeded slipping from the great hall and sneaked into the corridor, hurrying to the entrance of the King's private wing. Her journey was short lived as two guards at the door blocked her way.

"I have to know if he's found Toby." Sarah tried to reason with the goblins, twisting her fingers, painfully aware that her absence would soon be noticed and, most likely, severely punished. She looked at the guard with a lion-shaped bronze helmet pleadingly. "Please let me in."

"Nay, only those with permission can enter. The King said no one was to be allowed in," the guard answered grimly. His hold on his spear tightened as he lifted up his chin, and the lion opened his mouth, letting out a silent roar. The teeth in the animated animal's mouth gleamed in the dim light. "Especially you, human!"

"Can you at least inform him that I inquired about my brother?"

The guards glanced at each other; the winged vulture of the other guard's helmet flapped his wings, and the miniature lion wagged his tail. Finally, the lion-headed guard turned to Sarah.

"Trust me, human. When the King finds your brother, you'll know about it," he sneered.

Her shoulders slumped, and wearily she turned, returning to the main hall only to receive a loud and angry lecturing from the goblin steward. The goblin delivered a painful slap on her fingers with his twisted snake-shaped cane before ordering her to return to work while others snickered at her humiliation.

She gritted her teeth tightly together and tried not to care. As she picked up the broom, the steward turned around.

"You two!" he snapped at the two furry creatures wresting on the floor. "I thought already I ordered you to take the tray to the lady!"

Sarah's eyes narrowed and she chafed her fingers, glancing around with the corner of her eyes as she pulled herself upright. Her back screamed from the movement, and she winced, hearing a loud crunch in her spine. Her gaze followed the goblins passing by and vanishing to the darkness of a looming doorway. The King had a guest in the castle? Another human like her or some unlucky wished away? Maybe she could try to reach this person instead of Jareth and ask for help. She snorted. Unless, of course, that someone was like Jareth himself.

"Ho!" the goblin steward noticed her inertia and cackled. "No idling here, human! You're supposed to work!"

Barely able to suppress her desire to plunge out her tongue, Sarah just puffed air between her teeth and bent over the floor. She sighed, continuing the mopping with the sweat pearling on her forehead and remembering vaguely that only a few days ago she'd sat in front of her desk and sipped coffee while designing different images and words to boost sales of the store called Labyrinth. Oh, the irony. If it weren't she whose palms were now burning of the fresh blisters, she'd actually find the whole situation rather amusing.

When Sarah finally completed all task assigned to her, it had grown dark. Smoking torches on the walls cast flickering lights; the goblins scurried past her, cackling and giggling, merging with the shadows. She saw odd forms out of the corners of her eyes, ragged-winged shapes, and men-like shadows gliding over the stones. A cold draft caressed her skin; and the hair on her neck stood up as she made her way to the big sleeping room she shared with the servants. Sarah's stomach gnarled loudly, and the pain in her muscles had subdued to a dull ache. Wary of the gleaming glances the goblins gave to her, Sarah entered the room and made her way to her sleeping place. Tiredly, she sat down on the bed, feeling the cold stones poking through the thin mattress and blankets, and lay down.

Staring at the stone ceiling, Sarah listened to the cackling and snickering. Sometimes, a booming echo the night breeze brought in the room reached her ears. The wind carried a nice smell along it, of flowers, fruits and mead. Her stomach grumbled again. Due to her slip to the King's wing, she'd missed lunch, and the hunger gnawed at her guts. What would she give even for a Big Mac!

One by one, the goblins started to quiet down, their voices to die away. Occasionally, a cooing sound of the chickens resting on the rafter above her interrupted the slowly silencing space, the sounds of snoring accompanying the birds'. Despite her soreness and exhaustion, she couldn't sleep. Her thoughts swirled in her head: worry for Toby, her present predicament, and the King and his mysterious guest.

She sighed, turning on her side and stared at the dark wall in front of her face, closing her eyes and trying to banish the nagging pain. The last few days had not been very uplifting, and she suspected it would only get worse, and she would need all her energy tomorrow. Silently, she wondered which would finish her off sooner: the goblins or their king.

Suddenly, she yelped, feeling a touch of hair and dry skin against her hand. Springing up, Sarah stole a panicked glace about. Her sight scattered around until she recognized in the darkness next to her bed a pair of red eyes like burning coals. It took some time to let her heartbeats calm down, and her shoulders drooped.

"Itys, what are you doing here?" Sarah asked in a soft voice.

The goblin sniffled, crawling closer with his limb scratching against the floor until Sarah perceived the stripes in his white-black fur. She glanced around, but, apparently, no other was awake.

"Itys couldn't sleep," the creature murmured. His voice wavered as he hung his head down. "Itys had a dream. Itys always sees the same dream." He sounded desolate and very pitiful.

Sarah stared at the goblin for some time and sighed then, shifting further from the edge of her mattress. She patted the fabric softly. "You better come next to me."

The goblin obeyed, pulling closer to her. Oddly, the movement felt comforting, and before Sarah knew it she had wrapped her arms around Itys. "Why don't you tell me about it?" she asked.

He remained silent, his breathing coming out labored. Then, the words started pouring out from his mouth. "It starts always nicely," he whispered, trembling, and placed his head against Sarah's chest. "I sleep in a bed. It's warm, cozy, and big. Itys has no bed, but in a dream Itys sleeps in a bed as big as the King's." He paused, blinking his eyes, and when he continued his voice sounded somehow different – calmer, more collected.

"I hear crying. It wakes me up, and I get up. The boards wail beneath me as I descend the stairs and walk through dark corridors to the kitchen. In front of the table, I see two women hugging each other. They both cry really, really, loud, and I ask, 'Momma, momma, why are you crying?'

Momma turns and looks at me, and I'm afraid, because I don't think momma is there. She looks weird; her eyes are so sad.

'Momma, who are you with?" I ask again. 'Why are you sad?'

She doesn't reply. Instead, she looks at the other woman and says, 'I make him pay! By gods, my own flesh and blood – by my own son! He shall know the pain!'

Momma starts walking to me.

'Momma, why do you have a knife in your hand?' I ask but she doesn't reply.

The other woman stands up and follows momma. She's awfully silent, and I'm scared, but I'm trying to be brave, since father always says a prince shouldn't be afraid of anything, and I see that mommy is really sad. I run to momma and I hug her. I want to make her happy again. And then…then, I feel pain. It hurts really bad. And I scream, hugging momma. Why does it hurt so much? It hurts…" Itys' voice broke. He sniffed, and Sarah could feel his small heart trembling wildly, scared.

"It's always the same. Itys wakes up, and he's scared," he repeated.

Sarah couldn't move for a while; she found breathing difficult as she swallowed down the chunk that had stuck on her throat. "That's," it felt like her vocal cords were on strike, " an awful dream," she finished lamely.

"I think it's me -- before," Itys mused quietly, snuggling closer to her and burying his hairy head in her armpit. Sarah heart twisted painfully in her chest from the memories Itys' gesture brought to life. When Sarah still lived at home, Toby crawled in her bed at nights afraid of his nightmares.

"Itys doesn't want to sleep."

She didn't answer, breathing slowly and staring in the surrounding darkness. On its own accord, her hand gently started caressing Itys' furry head.

"My brother used to have bad dreams too when he was a child," she muttered. The sound of the snoring reached her ears. She bit her lip, looking down at Itys. "I told him that he shouldn't be afraid of dreams."

"Even if Itys sees the same dream every night?" Itys sniffed.

"Even then," Sarah confirmed. "Dreams can't hurt you."

"But Itys' dreams are scary, and Itys doesn't want to be afraid…" He let out a muffled sob.

"You know why we dream?" Sarah gently asked the goblin.

"The King gives dreams," Itys answered slightly resentfully. "Itys doesn't like the King, who gives bad dreams at Itys."

Sarah hesitated, uncertain how to continue, "The King maybe knows your dreams but he doesn't give them," she said at last and touched the goblin's head soothingly. "Dreams are thoughts and wishes of your mind, messages your mind tells you." She could feel the goblin start.

"Itys talks to Itys in dreams?" Itys repeated, dumfounded.

She almost smiled at the words and nodded. "In a way, yes." Bending closer, Sarah looked at the goblin. She saw only the shadows of his outlines and his burning red eyes returning her stare. "Your mind wants to tell you something really important if you see the same dream. It tells you the same thing until you understand it," she told in a low voice.

"Miss Sarah thinks dreams ends then?"

She nodded.

The goblin didn't speak for a while. "Itys thinks he wants the dream to end," he said hesitantly, and his small body shivered and he wriggled closer to Sarah. "Can Itys sleep with miss Sarah?"

"Of course you can," Sarah caressed his head, pausing, and asked then, "Would you want me to sing to you? I used to sing to my brother when he had nightmares."

Itys peaked at her from the shelter of her arms. "Sarah would sing to Itys?" he asked in an awestruck voice.

"Why, yes." Sarah's brows curved up at his tone, "Or don't you want to?"

"No! Yes! Itys loves singing!" he vowed hastily, snuggling even closer. "Itys hasn't heard singing for a long time."

Sarah sighed, afraid that her voice would waver and betray her fear for Toby. What if she would never see him again? Almost angrily, she wiped her eyes in haste and started singing. The melody filled her ears, gliding through the dark hall. Surprised, Sarah felt the singing ease some of her worries, realizing that years had passed since she'd last sung to someone. As she sung, Itys crawled even closer. Sarah could hear his breathing begin to even, and when she finally fell into silence, the goblin was fast asleep.

"Sleep tight, Itys" Sarah brushed his head gently somehow warmed by his trustfulness and looked up. Her heart nearly stopped, and she gasped frightened, recognizing gleaming eyes staring at her unblinkingly. A shiver run down her spine as she realized that her singing must have woken up the goblins.

Silence stretched, Sarah and the goblins stared at each other in the darkness. The crescent moon cast its feeble glow in the room, the moments ticked away slowly. She tensed when the goblins stepped closer, enfolding her arms protectively around Itys. One of the smallest ones appeared in front of her bed from the shadows of the room, blinking eyes with a brass helmet in his hands.

"Would…you sing another song?"

Sarah gaped at the question, inhaling sharply, and returned the goblin's stare. Temptation to decline tingled on the tip of her tongue before she snapped her mouth tightly shut. Punishing the creatures for following their orders didn't make sense. They lived here, and Sarah's victory years ago had nearly destroyed their home. Hadn't she learned that lesson already?

"After that you promise to let me sleep in peace? Okay?" she confirmed wearily.

The goblin gave her an enthusiastic nod, leaning closer. "One song only. Sarah can sleep after that!"

None of the goblins moved or uttered a word, bespelled in their place. She nearly forgot the words when she noticed some of the goblins wiping their gleaming eyes as if they were crying. She finished the song, expecting them to say something. Instead, just as silently, they pulled back to the shadows of the room.

She shook her head, lowering down on her bed. Careful not to wake Itys, Sarah rolled on her side and crinkled her eyes as she caught a sweet scent. Her stomach grumbled, and she reached out with her hand. Her fingers touched a cool item, half-hidden beneath her pillow. Carefully, Sarah pulled it closer, taking in a deep breath. Her lips curled up in amusement, recognizing the soft texture of a peach.

She woke up in a next day with a set of clean clothes brought next to her bed, still mismatched but more fitting than the earlier ones. She glanced around, half-expecting the clothes to light up in fire by themselves. When no one appeared to pay any attention to her, she shrugged and picked them up.

The morning passed uneventfully. Sarah waited for the goblins to start their pranks, pulling of her hair, mean and painful tasks, or chicken poo thrown on her. However, the scowling goblin steward only glance at her sourly and ordered her to go and fetch flowers from the King's garden. After she dutifully completed the task, he snapped at her.

"What do you want me to do with it? I'm not a cow! Go and make a nice bouquet of those!" He swung his cane and drove Sarah away.

Awed, she obeyed, not understanding the reason for their changed behavior from the evening before. Unsurprised to find Itys in her bed yet again, Sarah shook her head and noticed then a crowd of gleaming eyes surrounding her bed.

"Let me guess. You want me to sing another song?" She watched the little monsters gathered around her.

"It has been quiet in the castle," one of the goblins, the same that had fetched her from the fountain some days ago, confessed. "The King doesn't sing to us anymore…"

Her brows bolted up at the words, but she didn't have time to consider the message more closely when Itys snuggled closer to her, stealing her attention.

"Oh, well. I guess another song won't hurt you," Sarah agreed with a sigh.

It turned out to be a permanent arrangement: Itys sleeping in her bed while Sarah told stories or sung to the other goblins. Somehow, she even started to look forward to the evenings. Having someone near to her eased her loneliness, and the reaction of the goblins amused her a great deal. No matter how bad the tale or her singing, the goblins listened to her with a hungry gleam in their eyes and squeaked of excitement and joy like small kids. The days passed by, and Sarah started to get used to her life in the castle.

Despite her improved life, Sarah kept on dreaming restlessly, each morning a little more worried about her brother. She couldn't shake off the dreadful feeling that haunted her night and day, and the lack of the Goblin King's success to find Toby didn't ease her worry. Not that Sarah would have seen the Goblin King too often. If she hadn't known better, Sarah would have guessed he was avoiding her, or that his mysterious guest kept him busy.

"She doesn't like us," Mikos explained one time to Sarah while swaying in a chandelier above her head, and farted just to prove his words. "The King said that she's a lady and ordered us to stay out of her way."

"You mean, his queen?" Sarah voiced, suddenly feeling her hands starting to shake.

The goblin shook his head. "Nay. The King says wife is a waste of time. He has had many ladies before the lady." The goblin stopped swaying in the lamp and looked out of the near-by window, muttering, "King's ladies always have as many clothes as the King has. Mikos likes to try them. Mikos also likes how the ladies scream if they see Mikos wearing their dresses." He grinned, revealing his sharp teeth, and Sarah sighed.

"Lucky me that I share both my room and my clothes with you and the others" she muttered absentminded, straightening the lopsided portrait on the wall, and continued walking.

"Would Sarah want to have lady's dresses?" the goblin jolted, wiggling his ears and jumped to the floor, following Sarah.

She froze and turned to look down, inspecting the goblin for a long time. The ardent gleam in his eyes didn't look promising, and Sarah bit her lip thoughtfully. "I think it would be better if you respected the king's order and just stayed away from her," she finally said.

The goblin's expression fell. No doubt, he had planned to try the clothes by himself first. Sarah shook her head, returning her attention back to her work and forcing the churning feeling of disappointment in the back of her mind. Whoever the King had as his guest, or how many lovers he had, wasn't her business. She wasn't interested, she assured herself.

Mikos left soon, after Sarah shooed him away, stating that the goblin prevented her from working. But when finally alone, she still found it hard to concentrate on her work, and her eyes kept on stealing thoughtful glances at the King's private wing more than once. Suddenly, she felt a tug in the hem of her skirt and looked down.

"Hi Itys." Smiling fondly, Sarah recognized the goblin.

"Miss Sarah," the goblin let go of the skirt, articulating very clearly. He had taken her words seriously, and it looked as if he was making progress. He moved more energetically, and his eyes twinkled more like his fellow goblins. "Itys was asked to bring you to the lady."

Despite the fact that she had decided only a moment ago Jareth's love life didn't belong to her, her heartbeat sped up. She narrowed her eyes, inspecting the goblin closely, and asked slowly.

"Why?"

Itys shrugged his shoulders. "Itys not know…" he muttered, but something in his tone didn't reassure Sarah. She inspected him in length but the goblin's stare didn't waver.

"Okay, lead me ahead," Sarah finally agreed.

The room Itys took her was located high in the castle, somewhere in the King's wing. The goblin appeared nervous, glancing repeatedly around.

"Lady waits," he nodded towards a dark wooden door. "Itys waits outside for Sarah."

Her stomach fluttered nervously as she lifted her hand and knocked.

Dark red curtains on the window fluttered in the gentle breeze, and elegant tapestries depicting fantastic images of men, dragons and gods alike decorated the walls. It was as if she had stepped into another world. Her gaze wandered around, on the lush decoratum, chandeliers and dark furniture. She stopped uncertain and nervous, finally noticing the woman. She sat on a bench next to the window, watching Sarah with an impassive face. Her dark hair curled down on her shoulders, half-covered with a light veil, and a folded fabric of her dress hissed as she rose to her feet.

The woman inspected Sarah, her mouth twitched, and she took a step closer. "So, you are Sarah." Her pronunciation sounded odd, but her voice was low and melodious.

"Yes, ma'm," Sarah muttered, looking down, suddenly painfully aware of her patched old dress and flour stains in her cheeks. The woman looked so regal, dressed in white stainless and expensive clothes. The glittering golden jewels around her neck and wrist jingled cheerily as she walked across the floor, and the light breeze fluttered the fabric of her dress. Even if not the queen, she certainly looked like one.

Sarah sensed her stopping in front for her, inspecting her in silence.

"I see now why Jareth's been in a foul mood."

Startled, Sarah jolted her head up, looking at the woman. Their eyes met, and she swallowed, nearly backing away. Something dark and sad flickered behind the woman's eyes. She shrunk away as the woman approached, expecting -- she didn't know what. The woman made her painfully aware of herself. An overwhelming stupor of Jasmine filled Sarah's nose as the woman said, "My name is Phaedra."

Sarah opened her mouth. "I'm…"

"Yes, I know. You're Sarah Williams," Phaedra interrupted impatiently, regarding her with puckered brows. Her dark eyes flashed, the pale lips twitched. Thoughtfully, she raised her hand and touched Sarah's cheek with her cool fingers, tilting her head and measuring Sarah with a veiled gaze. Phaedra leaned closer, and Sarah's eyes bolted wide-open when she felt a gentle touch of lips brushing against her mouth.

She heard Phaedra whispering. "And even if it shall be my undoing, I'm happy to meet you in person."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I'm sorry about the lack of updates, I was pretty much out of internet connection and the computer the whole summer. But here I'm, back with a new chapter and my sincere apologies to all of you. Thanks again to all of you for keeping up with me, reading the story and your nice comments, and special thanks to my fantastic beta, Anaknusan!

Disclaimer: No, I still don't own the Labyrinth.

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter 10

As she leaned backwards, raising her head, Phaedra's lips quivered and eyes twinkled briefly. Slowly, she ran her tongue across her lower lip and brushed a lock of dark curly hair behind her ear, exposing the slender neckline and a thin line around her neck – a barely noticeable scar. The light coming from behind danced on her shiny bracelets, snaring Sarah's attention.

"Oh no. This won't do." Phaedra clicked the roof of her mouth with her tongue and locked eyes with Sarah. Oddly, only an echo of the previous amusement remained. With a deliberate shake of her head, Phaedra measured Sarah up, stretching out her hand. Before Sarah could retreat, Phaedra touched Sarah's collar.

The touch of her fingers cooled and burnt at the same time as Phaedra trailed her fingers slowly along Sarah's collar to her shoulders.

"Hey! Just keep your hands at yourself!" Hastily, Sarah snatched her arm away and her skin prickled at Phaedra's expression. Half-concealed darkness shimmered in the depth of her eyes, and with pale skin luminous in the soft morning light, she reeked of magic and danger.

"You should watch out for your tongue, my girl. In this castle, many have lost one if not mindful of their words." she said almost lazily.

Sarah bit her tongue, swallowing down the angry snap. "Forgive me, ma'm." She curtsied, lowering her gaze.

"Phaedra," the woman corrected. "No one has called me ma'm for eons, and I damn well shall keep it so. You call me Phaedra, and I call you Sarah. Understood?"

Sarah only nodded curtly, her gaze fixed on the floor and the golden delicate ornaments woven within the rug.

"I understand you've been here, in the castle, some time by now. Am I right?"

"Yes," Sarah grunted. She felt the woman touching her arm and flinching, she raised her gaze and started to back away. Before she could, Phaedra's grip hardened, preventing her from moving.

"What are you doing?" Sarah gasped, feeling her heart race yet again.

Phaedra tsked and muttered, frowning, "This just won't do. For the sake of the gods, he didn't even provide you with decent clothes…" She inspected Sarah's outfit with a disdainful expression, and suddenly let her go, wiping her hands together.

Sarah could feel a blush creeping up her face and glanced down. Her dirty toes greeted her sight, curling against the soft rug.

"I won't allow another human being to walk around in such scratch of clothes!" Phaedra ranted angrily, shaking her head. "Where ever you found those rags, from the junk land?"

Sarah's blush deepened. Biting down an angry retort, she raised her chin and leveled Phaedra's gaze. "The goblins gave them to me."

"Precisely!" Phaedra sneered. "Vile and disgusting creatures. I'm every time amazed of how dirty and malevolent beings they are." After awhile she added, "I would have expected Jareth to realize by now that humans and goblins don't mesh together."

"Truly, you're being a bit unfair." Sarah's replied before she even realized doing so, annoyed by the woman's attitude. "The goblins have been very friendly to me."

"Oh, really?" Phaedra arched her brown. A knowing smile played over her face and she tilted her head. With a burning face, Sarah snapped her mouth shut as the images of her first days in the castle returned to her mind. Still smiling, Phaedra turned around and returned to her seat next to the window. She inspected Sarah, patting the cushion next to her.

"Come here, Sarah. I wish to speak to someone sensible other than his majesty."

"I'd rather stand, thank you." Sarah hesitated, glancing desperately in the direction of the door. "I'm sorry, but I need to return back to work. I have some, err, urgent tasks to do before midday."

Phaedra's stare glazed, and she looked at Sarah with her smooth skin in sudden furrows. "Sit here!" the woman ordered in a dark voice.

Sarah opened her mouth to decline but snapped it shut, realizing that her feet had already started to move on their own. She clutched her fists, trying to prevent herself from walking, to no avail. Helplessly, trembling with the effort, Sarah felt how her steps took her closer to Phaedra. Her body moved as if conducted by a puppet master, forcing Sarah's limbs to move without her content. She reached the windowsill, spun around and sat inelegantly next to Phaedra.

"That's much better." Phaedra nodded satisfied and patted Sarah's knee.

Sarah jolted and moved further away. "Look. It's not that I wouldn't enjoy meeting other people but, truly, I have work to do." Sarah tried to reason with the woman. "I don't know how much you've talked with the Goblin King, but I need to correct one assumption. We're not on what someone might call…the best terms."

Instead of answering, Phaedra only bent her head and stared at Sarah, expressionless. "I heard you let your brother be stolen."

"How do you know about Toby?" Sarah cried in alarm, trying to rise to her feet, freaked out by this odd woman, but whatever spell Phaedra had used on her lasted and kept her confined against the bench.

"It's a serious thing, to lose the game. It happened before, of course." Phaedra gazed absentmindedly towards the front door. She turned abruptly to Sarah and her expression turned oddly sour. "But never like this, and he is worried. More than you could know."

"What? The Goblin King?" Sarah asked perplexed.

Phaedra only nodded with her eyes remaining veiled.

Sarah grimaced, unwarily fidgeting her skirt. "He has a funny way to show it. Sending me to an oubliette, humiliating me and putting me through all this with the goblins isn't something I would define as an act of concern."

"He can be a very disagreeable man," Phaedra agreed easily. "Yet, who else to blame?"

She gritted her teeth together, "I find it rather rude that everyone insists it was my fault. I had no reason to think some freaked librarian could break through locked doors and steal my brother."

Phaedra gave a sound, slightly like a snort. "Librarian, indeed. As if bolts would be of any help against to his -- our kind."

"Sarah stared at her, her heart suddenly racing in her chest. "Your kind? Who exactly are you? And what do you mean by saying that he wasn't a librarian?"

She smiled slightly. "Someone time has forgotten but hasn't forgotten the time." Her dress let out a loud hiss as she changed her position and turned face to face with Sarah, eyeing her curiously, appearing almost troubled. "You called the messenger god to take you to the Underground. I can see his touch on you."

"I'm not quite following you," Sarah found herself blushing, glancing at her hands she had folded on her lap.

"One shouldn't accept too eagerly god's gifts. They have tendency to go awry."

"I try to keep that in mind next time. Not that I had too many options over the matter anyway," Sarah answered stiffly. "And honestly, your king is far more generous in bestowing rotten gifts than any other god I've met."

At her words, Phaedra started to chuckle. "As much as it grieves me, I have to admit Jareth's not my king. But you do give him far too little appreciation, albeit I admit he'd behaved rather savagely in your case." She swung her hand flippantly. "Well, that's nothing we couldn't fix, I guess." That same alarming gleam appeared back in her eyes as she measured Sarah closely, reaching out her hand.

Recoiling, Sarah leaned back. Her hands clutched on the fabric of her dress, and she forced the words out of her mouth. "Speaking about his majesty, I don't think he'd be happy to find me here. It'd be, truly, a lot better if I could just leave before he notices."

However, it wasn't Phaedra who answered next. Sarah's stomach lurched at the familiar tone speaking up, "That, I fear, is already too late."

Jolting, she turned to look toward the door. Swallowing nervously, she met Jareth's mismatched stare. As annoying as it was, she felt her face heating and her heart to flutter nervously.

"I hope it wasn't your idea to leave this little havoc by itself on my private wings." He said, raising his hand in which he dangled a familiar looking goblin.

"Itys!"

"Stay where you are, Sarah!" Jareth barked angrily, unaware of Phaedra's spell.

A cool touch on her arm silenced Sarah, and then Phaedra swept pass her. The light and soft fabric of her gown fluttered and swayed as she made her way across the room. "Jareth. I was hoping you'd grant us your presence." She sounded amused.

"That must've been the reason that this little annoyance was guarding your door," the Goblin King dryly retorted, shaking Itys carelessly in his grasp.

"Truly, Jareth. You wound me. Itys was following my instructions," Phaedra replied calmly. "I asked him to bring Sarah to me and wait until I was done. He's quite harmless, as you know. Let go of him, would you?"

Slowly, Jareth lowered his arm and finally loosened his grasp on the goblin. The moment Itys' feet touched the ground he scurried quickly to Sarah and hid beneath her hem. Sarah touched his head soothingly, her gaze fixed on Jareth and Phaedra.

The King moved, taking a step closer. His eyes never left the white-clad woman in front of him. "Phaedra. If I didn't know better I would think you're scheming something."

"You should think better of me, I would never do such a thing. I was only," Phaedra flipped her shoulders elegantly, "trying to find myself some company."

He stopped, arching his brows. "I don't count as one?"

"Female company! I could hardly describe you as one." Phaedra laughed frivolously and placed her arms on her hips. "And by the look of the poor girl I think I did the right thing to ask her to me."

"Phaedra." Jareth gritted his teeth together, the wind blowing through the windows, ruffling his hair and his dark cape. The colors appeared to darken around him, shadows growing taller, and his curbed pale face was as if carved of stone. "What are you implying?"

"She should be clothed properly. Just look at her! That's no way to let any sensible creature wander in the castle."

Sarah's cheeks burned bright red. She was painfully aware of the look the Goblin King gave her behind Phaedra's back.

"I fail to see your point. She looks like the rest of my goblins." The words hurt but Sarah forced herself to keep her mouth tightly shut and hold his gaze with her chin proudly raised. She heard Itys's soft squeak, and released her hands quickly from the goblin's fur she'd been clenching.

"But she's not a goblin."

An unfamiliar expression lingered on his face, the corners of his mouth twitched at the words. Finally, Jareth sighed, and his posture changed slightly as in defeat. "No, she's not." He said softly, still looking at Sarah. "But it doesn't explain your sudden concern for her."

Phaedra stepped closer, snatching back his attention; and Sarah saw her leaning towards him. Rising on her toes, she murmured something in a low voice in his ear. Try as she might, Sarah didn't hear even a word she spoke.

Jareth stared at Phaedra as she stepped away. "Really?" he confirmed evenly.

"Yes, Jareth. That is my request." Her voice sounded odd, and alerted, Sarah tried to imagine what they were saying about her in their odd conversation.

His mouth tightened into a thin line as he inspected Phaedra for some time, face unreadable. "Very well," Jareth finally replied. "I'll let Ron know so he can see that her things are moved here." He turned to look at Sarah, forehead in deep furrows, and a nagging feeling clutched Sarah's throat as she returned his stare. It occurred to Sarah only then that there wasn't even a trace of his previous playful arrogance in him since her coming to the Underground. Instead of the teasing glint Sarah remembered from years ago, the Goblin King's eyes were haunted and full of unbecoming unease.

"I'll talk to you later today, Sarah." Jareth said darkly before turning and striding away with his cape fluttering around him like a ragged storm cloud.

Sarah kept on staring at the door somewhat bothered by her sudden insight into the Goblin King, unable to cast away her own uneasiness. Whatever made the Goblin King so tense couldn't be good. Devoured by her own worry, Sarah didn't even notice Phaedra had walked next to her and was now standing in front of her.

"I guess it cannot be helped," Phaedra tappedher mouth with a finger, her head tilted, and gave Sarah a peculiar look. She sighed. "As if one sulking child in this castle weren't enough. Well, come along."

Hesitantly, Sarah obeyed and found, to her own relief, she was able to move. Phaedra grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. Sarah had hardly time recognize all of the expensively decorated and furnished rooms Phaedra led her through, entering finally into a smaller room with a dark wooden vanity and glass bottles and jars placed on it. In the center of the room, a pile of cushions lied atop of a divan, and an open door at the furthest wall revealed a closet full of clothes.

"Hmm, let me look," Phaedra muttered, measuring Sarah thoughtfully while walking around her. She touched Sarah's pony tailed hair, and Sarah hardly had time to cry in protest as Phaedra pulled the knot off and let her hair loose.

"Just hold on a minute! You can't do that!" Sarah tried to resist. Phaedra paid no heed to her but instead called out. "Eudes, Kylos! Oh, good, Itys you're here already. I'd like you to…"

While Phaedra gave Itys a list of tasks Sarah suspected the poor goblin wouldn't remember longer than a few minutes, two smaller goblins crept in the room from the shadows. Phaedra sent Itys away and gave a few strict orders to her servants. One of Phaedra's personal assistant goblins – Eudes? – took her by the hand and dragged her through and down the castle to the lower level where the bathing areas were located. Dazzled by her odd experiences, Sarah didn't find her voice to protest before the goblin had already stripped her half-naked. Exasperated, she assured him she was able to undress by herself, thank you very much, and drove him gently but firmly away. Hesitantly, she looked around in the steaming surroundings, making it sure she was by herself before stepping down to the hot steaming water that gently swayed by her feet.

Despite the fact that she had yearned for a chance for a decent bath, Sarah couldn't properly enjoy the experience. Phaedra's goblins popped in and out the room without her permission, making her yelp every time in suprise. They brought different items, making a terrible fuss of each of them. The items must either belong to Phaedra or she had ordered the goblins to go in search of the items, a long white gown, archaic large pins and sandals, for her.

The gown was actually two rectangular pieces of soft cloth that she pulled over her head and fastened at her shoulders with the pins, forming a sleeveless dress; she then tied a belt under the folds and slipped the sandals on her feet. The costume felt odd but not uncomfortable, and it didn't look bad. Sarah thought rather dryly while glancing at the mirror and combing her tangled hair with her fingers that she looked more like a woman from ancient Rome than a 21st century woman.

She didn't have time to admire her changed appearance as Eudes urged her to leave the bathing area and led her through the castle corridors yet again. Sarah felt the curious glances of the goblins as she passed them and gestured at them helplessly; she was just as clueless. Despite her expectations, the goblin didn't take her to Phaedra. Jolting, Sarah recognized the castle area as part of Jareth's reception hall. She banished her anxiety, taking in a deep breath and stepped through the doorway.

The room was crowded with goblins that waved at Sarah, recognizing her. She attempted to make a feeble smile but her eyes were attached to a figure she saw lounging on his stone stead. Jareth the Goblin King stared at Sarah, softly tapping his riding crop against his knee.

"Your majesty," Sarah curtsied, feeling very uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

His nostrils flared, and he swung his legs down, his eyes transfixed on Sarah. "Phaedra didn't waste time, it appears."

She attempted a smile, involuntarily caressing the soft fabric of her dress. "No, not really. But what does this all mean?"

"You're to act as her lady-in-waiting," Jareth told Sarah in a matter of fact tone, resting his elbows on his knees.

"What?"

"Lady-in-waiting," Jareth repeated. "You work as her personal assistant from now on."

Sarah shook her head. "I know what a lady-in-waiting is, mind you," she blurted annoyed, crossing her arms on her chest. "However, I'd like to object to this treatment you've both put me through. "

"Really? To what treatment exactly are you referring?" Jareth inquired in a silky tone, and Sarah gulped nervously. She shoved the feeling away, raising her chin.

"For once, I'd liked that my opinion would have also been asked. I'm not her lapdog she can order however she likes. It's…depriving."

Jareth leaned backwards in his chair, glancing at the ceiling. "You say so?" he asked indifferently.

"Yes! And I won't do her any creepy services!"

"Creepy services?" Curious, he lowered his gaze, arching his brow at her.

"You must know what I mean," Sarah stammered flustered, blushing. She was acutely aware that at least a dozen curious ears pried on their conversation at the moment, and being aware of that fact didn't make her feel very much better.

"Frankly, my darling. I do not." Jareth stated pokerfaced but Sarah could have sworn she detected a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But maybe you could enlighten me further in this case?"

"Fine," Sarah snapped. "She kissed me, and as far as I know that's not very usual behavior."

"Oh, dear." That something in his eyes was most certainly akin to amusement. "She did now, did she?"

"Yes! And she keeps on ordering me around, patting and touching me all the time," Sarah snapped. "I might be a servant but there's a line on what I'm willing to do! I will not, I won't…"

"Sarah, relax. She's not, as far as I'm aware, trying to seduce you." He quirked his brows again. "Although it would be an interesting thing to see."

"You -- you." Sarah stared at him mouth agape. "You can't be serious." Only by a great effort, she sustained herself from stomping her feet on the ground, forgetting the surrounding goblins. "I don't find this funny at all! I'm not here to offer some erotic services to any of your…"

"No, I think you're quite right on that. I rather reserve that pleasure for myself," Jareth agreed amiably, getting up from the throne and descending the few stairs separating him from Sarah. "However, I'd preferred continuing this conversation in private. So, if you wouldn't mind?" He offered her his gloved hand, and after some hesitation Sarah accepted it.

The feeling of being transported left her, as usual, disoriented. Sarah blinked her eyes, trying to focus and finally recognized the room as the same small one she had pledged herself to Jareth's authority. The coldness seeping through the thick stones raised her skin on gooseflesh. Her stola, though comfortable, hardly provided her any warmth. She shivered, stroking her bare arms, and unable to hold back her tongue, asked. "Jareth. Do you think Toby's still alive?"

The amusement disappeared from his face for a moment, and he sighed. "Yes, Sarah. I think so."

"How do you know? As far as I know, anything might've happened to him. And it's been already over a week since he disappeared. He might be hurt," Sarah whispered in a strangled voice. "He must be afraid."

"Yes," Jareth agreed slowly, something akin to pity in his voice. "It might have -- happened. I can't deny that but trust that Toby's still alive. I will find him. I promise."

Sarah nodded absentmindedly, muttering while staring out the window behind Jareth's back. "Phaedra mentioned this has happened before, did she speak the truth?"

She heard Jareth's sharp intake of air. "Sarah, before allowing you to return to Phaedra, I need to give you a word or two of advice."

"Oh?" Sarah glanced at him sharply, recognizing the concern in his voice. He was regarding her carefully.

"As her lady-in-waiting, she expects you to spend a lot of time with her -- share secrets, memories, and so on." Jareth made a small gesture with his hand. "However, you're not to talk about your trip through Labyrinth, Toby, or his disappearance with her. Is that understood?"

"But she knows already," Sarah resisted faintly, remembering that Phaedra had said she could see Hermes' gift on her. "She even knew about Tereus." Silently, she wondered how much Jareth did share secrets with his mistress. At least, Sarah thought bitterly, her life didn't seem as a secret.

"Despite." Jareth wrinkled his forehead. "Phaedra isn't part of the Underground, and I plan to keep it that way." He ruffled his wild hair, troubled. "I don't want to involve her --" he stopped suddenly. "She comes from an old and respected family and is used to polite behavior. She is very dangerous, don't forget that, Sarah."

"And you tell me that now? What do you expect me to do if she demands an answer from me?" Sarah frowned at him.

"She's not stupid. She knows you're my subject," he replied cockily. "Be careful. She has her own agenda, and you would do well to remember not to trust in her."

"I'm touched by your concern," Sarah retorted, eyeing him darkly. "But I'm a big girl, and I've already learned my lessons regarding accepting certain advice."

He gave her a sour look. "For your own good, you'd better keep this one in mind still." Jareth took a step closer and leaned toward her. "She doesn't do anything without motive, and whatever she expects to gain through you, I can only guess."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Once again, I want to thank at least million times my fantastic, fantastic beta, Anaknusan, for her help. Also thank you my fantastic reviewers and readers. I'm happy the story's kept your interest! I promise, the plot shall start to unfold now on.

**Disclaimer**: No. Not mine. But maybe I could have my own Goblin King if I asked nicely?

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter 11

Working as a lady in waiting wasn't as bad as she first envisioned. Sarah had to leave the goblins and the grand hall she shared with them, of course, since Phaedra appeared to disapprove of their company. That didn't prevent the goblins from popping up to meet her every now and then though. Naturally, living in the Goblin King's castle meant not seeing them was an unrealistic expectation, even if they seemed to try to avoid Phaedra. Not that Sarah blamed them. Something in the way Phaedra carried herself and spoke made Sarah wary. Phaedra never acted hostile but in some ways she seemed even more dangerous than the Goblin King.

What exactly Phaedra's realtionship with Jareth was, Sarah couldn't quite figure out. Jareth certainly acted politely towards her -- almost respectfully, and Phaedra appeared to devote a lot of energy and time to the King. They could hardly be described as lovers, however. It confused Sarah. If Phaedra wasn't Jareth's lover, why did she live in the castle? Moreover, what had Jareth meant when he said that Phaedra didn't belong to the Underground? She had asked the goblins about it and received some very vague and confusing answers.

When it came to the Goblin King, Sarah did her best to avoid him. Unfortunately, Phaedra didn't share her opinion. Phaedra demanded that Sarah attend her every time she met with the Goblin King. After all, as her lady in waiting Sarah should be available for possible urgent tasks. Since her urgent tasks were more like an exception instead of rule, it meant Sarah spent idle hours in the same room with the King. A few times, she tried carefully to suggest to Phaedra that she could wait outside but the woman didn't listen to her, making a nonchalant gesture with her hand.

"Nonsense! Of course you'll be there. How else can I train you?" Phaedra snapped without troubling to explain it better.

Her lack of any sense of personal space or privacy bothered Sarah as well. Phaedra kept on greeting her with a kiss each day, which Sarah found extremely annoying. As with her plea to be left outside when she met Jareth, her suggestion to try different means of greeting also fell on deaf ears. This tendency not to listen to any suggestions annoyed Sarah the most. Phaedra could spend hours exhausting Sarah with her endless questions without any effort to listen to the explanations. It was as if she didn't even care.

"She drives me crazy! Always ordering me around, making me groom her as if she couldn't comb her hair without help. And those questions! As if I'd know why people built shopping malls or why the driving license is limited to sixteen years. Gods, why couldn't Jareth just tell her no? I know he's just as uncomfortable seeing me as I am seeing him. He almost never speaks to me when Phaedra's present," Sarah complained to Itys, who was helping her to change into her new gown -- another replica of ancient Greek or Roman dress.

"Miss Sarah should be very nice to Lady while the King's away. Itys knows when he visits the Aboveground he can't look after Sarah." Itys' answer sounded more slurred these days, Sarah noted absently, fidgeting with her sleeves. Maybe the dreams had started to bother him again. She shook her head.

"I don't understand. It's been at least two weeks now and he still hasn't found my brother." Sarah bit her lip, a sense of apprehension returning. What if Jareth had lied to her? What if he was behind Toby's disappearance? She stared at her image, barely able to recognize herself. Her white and red clad reflection returned her wide-eyed stare and the helpless gesture of her hands. "How can it be so difficult?"

Instead of answering, Itys only muttered something incomprehensible.

"Itys?" Sarah looked down and a small smile started itching on her lips. Itys's dark-haired head was barely visible in the cloud-like cuckoo's nest of her dress he had wrapped around him. Carefully, she knelt down to pick him up in her arms. The goblin snored loudly, a stream of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. Some of it had already spilled on her dress.

"Oh, what have I gotten myself into?" Sarah mused, lowering the goblin down to her bed and stood unmoving with her eyes fixed on the small creature. Despite the fact that Sarah now had her own little room in the same quarters with Phaedra, Itys continued to sleep with her. The devotion and trust he placed in her both warmed and worried Sarah. She sighed, pulling herself upright, and stole a glance at the mirror. Her hair had grown, Sarah realized, gingerly touching the pile of her dark tresses, more than should be possible in only couple of weeks. Somehow, the thought worried her even more.

Sarah reached Phaedra's rooms just in time. She could already hear the woman's snappy shouts as she instructed her goblins. It hadn't taken a long time to realize Sarah had seen both Eudes and Kylos among other goblins in the great hall, usually delivering food to her ladyship. They had once confessed her they tried to avoid the task but Phaedra tolerated only their presence.

"Sarah, wherever have you been? I've been desperate with these two dimwits, who have no idea how to tie a decent bow!" Phaedra turned around as Sarah entered room, extending her hand to demonstrate her words. Her long sleeved dress still needed to be tied together from the arms, and the separate pieces of light blue cloth hung down on her like a pile of limp legs.

"I'm sorry. I'll help you immediately." Sarah hurried to Phaedra, giving a slight nod to the goblins. They backed away with an air of relief lingering about them. She stole a wayward glance at Phaedra while fastening the sleeves together, wondering once again why Jareth tolerated her in the Labyrinth. She showed no remorse toward his goblins, detesting nearly everything about them. How funny that she should care so much about the king of the goblins.

"It might be we have some one else joining our dinner tonight," Phaedra spoke unexpectedly.

"Oh?"

"My brother-in-law." Something in her tone sounded troubled.

"Do you wish me to leave you three alone?" Sarah asked, trying to hide the hopeful tremble in her voice. She'd learnt to detest dinners. Most of the time she spent in a tense silence, dreading the chance either one would address her. As she forked her food with little appetite, missing the cheerful companionship of the goblins, she listened to Jareth and Phaedra half-heartedly. It drove her mad. Occasionally, Sarah felt an annoying itching as if she almost - though never quite - understood the context. Certainly, she had heard about the topics somewhere. Most unnerving was that even if Jareth addressed Phaedra, his eyes kept on searching for Sarah before the King turned away face unreadable. Sarah noticed only then that she released the breath she had contained, a nauseous apprehension fluctuating in her stomach. She glued her attention to her plate afraid that Phaedra might have noticed the King's glance.

"Don't be a simpleton, Sarah. I'm merely informing you that he might join us tonight. I actually think you might find him -- likeable."

"He's married to your sister?" Sarah couldn't help from asking.

"Yes. And before you ask, no, I'm not close with her," _anymore_, the unspoken word lingered in the room. "But I do like her husband." Phaedra's lips curved slightly as if with a private joke and her gaze turned distant. "He doesn't like Jareth very much though, and you should do well to keep that in mind."

Before Sarah had time to ask more, Phaedra changed the topic, back to her usual self. She inspected Sarah from head to toe with a critical eye. "I rather think you should be presentable. I do hope you've learnt something by now so not to totally embarrass me." She glanced outside to the darkening Labyrinth, already striding toward the door. "Come along, Sarah. We haven't got all night."

"Ah, Phaedra!" Jareth stepped forward, taking Phaedra's hand to kiss it, as they stepped in the dining hall. His eyes flickered in Sarah's direction and he gave her a polite bow. "Sarah. Shall we go?"

To her surprise, he lead them through open doors to the terrace where burning torches cast away the dark that threatened to cover the trees, flowers and marble statues of his garden below. The birds of the night sung softly, telling of secrets only those who dared to listen would be able to find. She almost recognized the scent the wind caressing her face carried. The night felt unusual, bearing traces of wildness -- forests, fruits and berries. A clear tune filled the air, accompanying the birds' song. The music sounded as wild as the night, rich and heated, telling about moments of pleasure, friendship and mirth. An image from her past returned from her university days. She smiled at the memory of chasing Sir Didymus and Ambrosius in the student dormitory's corridor laughing and desperately worried that her schoolmates might wake up to the ruckus the valiant fox knight caused. Other images came back to her mind -- evenings spent with friends drinking wine and talking until the break of dawn, Hoggle's dazed expression when he realized she'd forgiven him at the gates of the Goblin City, and her party with her friends after she returned from her first trip to Labyrinth.

Somehow, the night brought these lost moments back to her mind. Memories, gentle and wild, big and small alike, came alive. She followed Jareth and Phaedra from a few feet behind into the garden, gazing around in a quiet wonder, feeling little bit giddy and bold, while listening to Jareth's and Phaedra's quiet conversation.

"I wonder," Phaedra mused, glancing over her shoulders, at Sarah, "how will he be today?"

Jareth snorted. "I've no doubt he'll be as insufferable as usual. He's taken up his _reputation_ very seriously. It's the only thing he attends to. And when it comes to his unexpected visit, it makes me wonders…" his interrupted in mid-sentence.

"Maybe he has changed?" Phaedra suggested weakly after a while, clearly not believing in her own words.

Jareth didn't bother to answer, and Sarah wondered who was the person Jareth so clearly disliked yet still was going to meet.

The music grew stronger the deeper they ventured. Burning lights flashed in different colors, sending sparks of red, violet, and green like small fireworks. Finally, they cleared the gardens and arrived in the centre of a clearing. Blinking her eyes, Sarah stopped, thinking for some time she imagined the sight. Torches and colorful lanterns illuminated the area, and someone had setup on the grass a huge white tent. A low wooden table stood beneath the tent, surrounded by big soft-looking cushions. She saw the musicians, barely clad nymphs and furry fauns dashing around, flutes and lyres in their hands, laughing, singing, and drinking. When they entered the clearing, the creatures halted and the music died.

Sarah noticed then a man sitting by the table, looking in their direction. A decorated diadem adorned his forehead and his long dark hair waved about him. The man's youthful features were expressive with sublime pleasure and ecstasy. On his strong shoulders, he wore a long and richly folded purple robe.

"Giver of wings." Jareth bowed his head to the man with an act of the uttermost sincerity. "You do me honor by gracing me with your presence. A long time has elapsed since we last met."

"A long time indeed, Jareth. Please do have a seat," the man suggested absentmindedly, taking a sip from the golden goblet he held in his hands. Jareth stepped closer, and the fauns and satyrs recoiled further from him, hissing and sneering angrily at the Goblin King. He didn't even bother to look at them, sitting opposite the man, who patted the cushion on his left. "Phaedra, Daughter of Pasiphae. I extend my tent, wine and table for you to share. Have a seat by my side."

"Sotar Dionysus. You give me great honor."

"Undoubtedly and undeniably that must be true if you say so." He quickly flashed a peculiar smile, before he fixed his dark eyes on Sarah. Despite his apparent drunkenness, his eyes were sharp. His hard and cruel gaze burned with a feverish fire, and Sarah felt a shiver running down her spine, almost terrified by the sight of the untamed god. "I fear we haven't been met before, my lady. You must be Sarah."

"Yes, my lord Dionysus."

"Ah, woe! How dark is night tonight, clothing the world like a jealous man his wife. Please step closer, Sarah. I wish to admire you in the light of my hearth, let it unwrap the envious darkness that hides you from my sight."

Sarah took a careful step forward, feeling suddenly bashful of the god's attention. The god spoke slowly, still maintaining eye contact, "Stories of your bravery and beauty have traversed far. Nevertheless, they've only been stories thus far. Lady Sarah, a sight of you gives me great pleasure. You are far fairer than the stories tell."

"Thank you, my lord." Blushing, Sarah looked down, flustered and annoyed at the same time. Were all gods such sweet talkers?

"Fear not, child. Have a seat, let my cupbearer pour you wine. My satyroi, seilenos and mainades! Come and serve me and my guests!" Dionysus clapped his hands and a young toga-clad man with a delicately leafed vine adorning his waist stepped forward. He held a painted clay vase in his hands. A group of nubile nymphs and fauns followed him, carrying plates with piles of food. The silence that had fallen after they entered the clearing was broken, and his cohorts gradually started their previous diversion. Quietly, Sarah accepted the place on the other side of the god and muttered her thanks to the young man filling her cup. She followed with her gaze the collection of most odd-looking creatures, half-naked nymphs and intoxicated fauns, running around the tent, disappearing into the darkness of the garden. Her face turned pink as she picked up voices of faint moans and cries.

The god lifted his goblet, speaking loudly as if to overcome the noise his minions caused, "For the night, may its reveries be wild!"

"For the night!" They toasted, and she took a sip, surprised to find the wine like nothing she'd ever tasted. Smooth and cool, it tickled her tongue, nourishing her with a single sip. She took another sip, savoring the sweet and fresh flavors until she dared to steal another glimpse about. The young man, standing by the table, noticed her gaze, and winked at her suggestively and Sarah blushed.

"My lord, I hope you have been well." Jareth's voice snared back her attention.

"As always, Jareth. As always. My wife sends her warmest greetings and regrets for she's unable to visit you." His words, despite being polite, held an odd undertone, which Sarah couldn't quite determine. Like resentment, she thought, briefly glancing at Phaedra.

A jaded smile lingered on Jareth's face, and a shadow slid over his face. He bent his head. "I'm grateful for her kind words. May I dare ask you to return her my greeting as well? The Labyrinth remains forever open to her."

Dionysus' expression darkened. "I'll tell her your words. My lady Phaedra," he turned to address her, "I'm surprised to find you here. I never thought you'd find pleasure within the walls of the Underground maze."

"Times change, my lord Dionysus."

"Yes, indeed. They do," he replied slowly. "Speaking of which, I was hoping to see the new heir on the throne of the Land Beyond. I was left under the impression he would be with you already."

Sarah's head perked up, the color draining from her face. A new heir? Hastily, she looked in Jareth's direction, sure that they were talking about Toby. That had to be his plan, to make Toby his heir. A burst of anger churned her throat but she held her mouth, clutching her fists together underneath the table. She would have time to question Jareth later.

"Unfortunately, he is unable to join us tonight," Jareth tersely replied, shoulders erect.

"What a pity. It would bring me a great pleasure to meet him. I must demand you to convey to him my best regards." Dionysus mused, eyes briefly flickering as if he knew some sort of secret joke. He took a sip of his wine, masking his expression.

"I will, my lord," Jareth said sincerely but something in his voice told Sarah he wouldn't do as bided. The Goblin King looked angered, staring at the god with his chin set, and asked coldly, "I assume these…rumors brought you so suddenly to my court, even if I hardly see a reason for that. There's never been much friendship between our worlds."

Dionysus only smiled, taking another sip. "Now, now Jareth. You must remember the Underground and the world of gods share a long history. And when it comes to rumors, maybe they sparked my interest. Or maybe the woman you've snared from my brother? Lady Sarah, I've understand you come from the world above. Tell me, how is the world today? Do people still enjoy the gifts I bestowed them with?"

Slightly baffled at the unexpected question, she answered as politely as possible, "Yes, my lord. Wine is widely cherished. Tragedies and comedies are well known too, even if the plays have changed somewhat since your days."

"Those are happy news! You must share a cup with me! Don't be bashful. Just drink it all down for Komos' wine never ends."

The cupbearer youth stepped closer and filled their goblets another time. Sarah gasped, for now the wine tasted very different, of wild strawberries, cherries and pine. She chuckled for no reason, taking another sip, closing her eyes and enjoying the wild taste of the god's wine.

_Be careful with your drinks, Sarah. Mortals are seldom invited to share the wine of the gods for a reason._ The words penetrated her mind, a distantly familiar voice speaking inside her head. She jolted and looked around, trying to locate the source of the voice. A faint echo of a snort lingered in her mind before vanishing. She locked her gaze together with Jareth, noticing his tense shoulders. A ghost of a frown lingered behind his face and his eyes. She blinked, lowering the goblet carefully to the table.

"Komos, my boy! Pour the lady some more!" Dionysus ordered hastily.

Sarah shook her head, eyes searching for confirmation from Jareth, before she turned towards the god. "I fear," her voice cracked, "my lord Dionysus that I have to decline. I have drunk too much of your excellent wine already."

The god curved his brows, watching Sarah intently. Her heart skipped a few beats at his attention as she strived to banish the lightness of her head. She shivered under his scrutiny and felt his gaze boring through her. Finally, the god broke the eye contact and looked away, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Komos, obey the young lady and fill her cup with water. I think his majesty and I have some things to discuss in private. While we're gone, entertain the ladies the best you can."

"My lord, you're very courteous today to grant us this pleasure," Jareth inclined his head, a trace of resentment in his voice.

"Only you know that in the end, Jareth," the god said all friendliness abandoned now, rising to his feet. "Come, join me, I insist."

Clearly reluctantly, Jareth followed the god. Together they walked away, disappearing into the darkness of his garden side by side, a robust bare-chested god and lean blond Goblin King. Sarah turned to Phaedra, opening her mouth to question her. A quick shake of Phaedra's head silenced her, however.

"My ladies, please enjoy your meal," Komos told in a soft voice, a radiant smile on his face. "We shall play, sing and dance while you dine." As he spoke, a young man with donkey ears protruding from his head stepped in the circle of light. He held a wooden pipe in his hand, caressing his instrument with closed eyes. As if in a trance, he started to play. Soon a loud and fast drumming joined his melody, and when that happened, a group of satyrs and nymphs screamed with delight, jumping on the grass. The pipe player kept his eyes closed, moving slowly as if drugged, and Dionysus' followers danced around him. Sarah could hear them singing.

_Bacchus, I call, loud-sounding and divine, fanatic God, a two-fold shape is thine: Thy various names and attributes I sing, O, first-born, thrice begotten, Bacchic king:_

The frantic beat of the music speed up and slowed, and the dancers became like shadows. Enthralled, Sarah tried to catch their faces and forms but discerned only flashing shapes -- a piece of a white dress, bare legs and hoofs, and swaying hair. Faster they danced, and less she saw. The music throbbed in her ears, louder, demanding, rushing towards a climax she could feel tangible in the air. The lights flickered, the shadows grew, and the music kept on playing. She discerned Phaedra's pale face and the odd scar around her neck. Despite the fact that she held her eyes closed as if enjoying the music, her whole body was rigid as if she struggled with something within her. She clutched her trembling fists, pressing them against the table. Sarah looked away, listening to the words.

_Tis thine mad footsteps with mad nymphs to beat, dancing thro' groves with lightly leaping feet. Bassarian God, of universal might, whom swords, and blood, and sacred rage delight…_

An odd heaviness crept through her limps; the sight of dancing shadows watered her eyes. Unconsciously, she started swaying to the rhythm, feeling the burning sensation of Dionysus' wine in her veins. She tried to resist the call, but her eyes felt so heavy, and they soon fluttered shut. It felt harder to breath; the swirling colors and darkness dizzied her. Her hands trembled. She itched to tear off her clothes and bask in the alluring darkness. Sarah blinked, fighting against the heat of the music. The music rushed through her body, calling, begging her to let go. It wanted -- no, she wanted! To cry! Yes, she wanted to dance! She wanted to laugh and weep, and tear her hair out. She wanted all that and she wanted more! Sarah wiped her face, which was wet with tears. Her knees buckled under her as she tried to get up, and crying like a desolate a banshee, Sarah fell over the table.

The music continued, still calling for her but now Sarah sobbed, suddenly afraid. Through her burning mind, she realized the music had taken control over her body. She convulsed as the melody pierced her mind, feebly attempting to cover her ears but the wine weighted her limps. Helplessly, she cried, confined against the table.

_Help me!_

"Enough!" The word echoed like a boom, killing off the song, and the satyrs and nymphs scattered screaming from the clearing. The Goblin King strode from the darkness his face a mask of pure rage. "How dare you to play that song in my land? You know what it does to mortals!" he snarled at the cowering creatures, bending over the weeping Sarah. His touch burnt, and she whimpered, too afraid to open her eyes. Cursing softly, Jareth swept her into his arms, draping his cape around her.

"That's the only song we know, your majesty," Sarah barely heard Komos soft voice replying.

"Then I think it's time to learn something new. If I ever again hear the tunes of the Panic Song even your father will be unable to save you."

"Jareth…"

"And you! Why didn't you do anything?"

Phaedra inhaled sharply. "In many ways I'm just as much mortal as she is. I wasn't granted with the gift of your mother, as you know. I hardly was able to endure the song myself."

He took a long calming breath, speaking at last through gritted teeth. "Are you able to take her to her room then?"

"Yes but ---"

"I don't need a nanny," Sarah tried to speak, fluttering her eyes, but the words came out slurred, sounding more like, "Aye doennh neaa-a-nanniee..."

"Don't try to speak, Sarah," Jareth ordered shortly, looking down at her. She barely recognized his shadowy, furious face through her hazy eyes, and shivered from sudden fright. Noticing her fear, Jareth explained in a gentler tone, "Phaedra will attend you for now."

Sarah smelled Phaedra's perfume enveloping her as Jareth passed her off to Phaedra's arms. Vaguely, she wondered at it; she'd never imagined Phaedra could be so strong.

"Jareth, for gods' sake! You cannot be serious! Besides, he's most likely already gone." Phaedra hissed.

"No he's not. The borders closed the moment he broke the rules. The gods have no power here. That was the agreement they made, and I'm going to take every advantage of that," Jareth reminded her gleefully. He pulled himself further from Phaedra, talking darkly, "Take her inside and be sure she's unharmed. I'll continue the interrupted discussion with my -- _guest_."

"You're impossible! Just don't do anything stupid!" Phaedra snapped. Next, Sarah felt a familiar lurch in her stomach. The rustling of the leaves faded as they left the gardens and the Goblin King behind them.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Once again, I want to thank at least million times my absolutely fantastic beta, Anaknusan, for her to you for the comments and reviews, and reading the story. As I told, the plot is beginning to unravel. And, also, as promised, expect some romance (yaaaiks!) to take place at last!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own the Labyrinth. No money is being made with the story, and the only compensation is the pleasure of writing and distributing the story to the audience! (The best possible one, that is)

**The Land That Is Not**

**Chapter 12**

_they have been faithful  
to many things and which die  
i have been sometimes true  
to Nothing and which lives_

_ -- e. e. cummings_

"How is she doing?" Jareth asked Phaedra.

"She's sleeping. The music nearly destroyed her mind. Luckily, the girl has some spunk. She'll survive." Phaedra almost smiled but behind her smile, the worry marred her face, casting shadows under her eyes.

"That's Sarah for you: stubborn until the very end." Jareth replied haughtily but Phaedra recognized the relief in his voice. She crossed her arms, measuring the Goblin King with her gaze.

"What did you do to him, Jareth?"

Jareth scowled, ruffling his hair. "The wine-rotten sneering idiot claims he only wanted to see if the rumors were true. It's clear he planned to get me out of way so that Sarah would be vulnerable. If I hadn't sensed her distress..." he interrupted himself. "Still he dares to claim he didn't know anything! Phaedra, you have no idea how much I detest the gods. They're so full of themselves it's a wonder they haven't died in extinction by their own hands."

She only arched her brow. "I trust you let him leave the Underground unharmed and alive?"

"Of course I did. What are you thinking?" Jareth snapped and then furrowed his brows, taking a long look at Phaedra. "Speaking of which, I'm still trying to figure out what I should do with you. You haven't been very open with regards to your agenda, and I find your presence evokes problematic thoughts. Tell me, why are you still here? I thought you got all the answers you looked for, and as Dionysus bluntly said, you've never been a very keen friend of my Labyrinth."

"I wish no harm to you or the girl. I can give my word on that."

"I know that. I asked why are you staying?" Jareth said coldly, staring at the woman.

"Maybe because I pity the girl? You've certainly done your best in destroying her spirit and scaring her out of her wits. You've behaving like your father, and I don't like that sight very much."

"Don't compare me to my father. I'm nothing like him," Jareth snarled, turning on his heel and pacing restlessly across the floor. The burning hearth cast flickering shadows on him and around the room, banishing the chilling cold of the Underground night. Phaedra wrapped her thick woolen shawl around her shoulders, cursing silently the chilly night. She missed the heat that lingered throughout the days, the ripe and suffocating nights of her home, and sighed.

"Tell that to your goblins. I've noticed they appear to avoid your presence more than usual nowadays. Did you know that they nearly worship Sarah?"

"What?" Jareth barked angrily, stopping and turning to look at her. The dark clouds remained on his temple.

"Apparently, she sings and tells tales to them. And poor Itys has decided to fight against his nightmares, feigning to be brave so not to make Sarah worried." She considered her words. "I'm actually surprised. He's starting to speak almost normally."

Jareth rubbed his forehead. "She's really creating a mess. I thought you were supposed to oversee she wouldn't cause problems while I searched for the boy?"

"Yes, but as you know I have only two eyes, while your goblins tend to be rather crafty in being everywhere at the same time. You definitely should talk to Sarah. It's only matter of time she notices herself what's happening to her. Not mention her reaction when she learns what you've been hiding from her all these years. She's going to be livid."

Jareth flared his nostrils. "Yes. The gifted god of merrymaking certainly made sure of that."

Phaedra gave him an encouraging smile. "Try to let it go. He's gone now, and Sarah is unharmed, if not unchanged. It's only a matter of time until you find Toby."

"Somehow," Jareth mused, staring unblinkingly over her shoulder, "I have a dreadful feeling that time's running short. I have overlooked something; I just can't figure what that could be."

Phaedra hesitated only briefly. "Maybe you should contact your father in that case?"

Jareth started, and before she even knew it, he closed the distance between them. "Never!" he barked. The draft strengthened in the room, raising goosebumps on Phaedra's skin. His eyes flickered in contempt he didn't bother to hide while he bared his teeth, scowling at the woman. "I'm certain that meddling fool would just love to have a chance at regaining his throne. You know what it would do to this place! I don't trust him."

"Don't be a fool!" Unafraid, Phaedra snapped, stepping closer to the Goblin King. She pointed her finger at him, nearly touching the gleaming crest resting on his pale chest, which rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing. "Your allies are starting to look rather scarce, and he has the advantage you should consider." She lowered her voice, looking into his eyes. As if emphasizing her words, she said slowly, "He too lost his throne because of a mortal girl."

o O o

Birds' chirping and a mighty headache woke her up. Sarah stared at the ceiling, collecting pieces of yesterday, the pounding of her head making her already scattered thoughts even more confusing. Had Jareth truly taken her to meet Dionysus last night? It felt so…bizarre. She shivered, remembering the crazed tune Dionysus' concords had played, its maddening echo still lingering in her ears. Aftermath of her panic haunted her, and as invited, the combined sensation of music and wine returned back in her body. Resolutely, she banished the panic. She was at her bed in her room, safe. Yet, Sarah mused, she had no memory of returning. Had Jareth carried her? Or Phaedra? Sarah sighed, chafing her forehead, trying to recall the events after the wild music.

"You're awake, good." Jolting, she looked at her side and noticed Phaedra, who was sitting on a chair next to her bed and inspecting her carefully through her long eyelashes. Her head was uncovered, the pale morning light illuminating her strong nose and sharply structured features. Dark curls cascaded down on her shoulders, their darkness highlighting the white and scarred mark around her neck. Seeing her without her usual veil felt weird, she looked somehow older, worn out. Now that Sarah thought about, she had no idea of Phaedra's true age. Millenniums?

Phaedra leaned closer, placing her hand on Sarah's temple, and inquired, "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," Sarah told truthfully. She winced at the sound of her own voice and at the ringing of her ears, swallowing, and attempted a lame joke. "If you get this sort of hangover from Dionysus' wine every time, I'd rather be without. One could think that the god who invented the wine would have done at least something to its after effects…"

Phaedra smiled softly. "You're full of surprises, Sarah. Many other mortals would be half-mad already, you know? To drink his wine and endure the Panic Song is quite an achievement."

"One can become only so mad," Sarah frowned. "Anyway, I was the idiot who demanded to be brought to the Underground. I'd hardly describe myself as very sane." She tried to sit but her hands shook so badly she ended up lying down, gasping for air.

Phaedra's face brightened. "And as stubborn as ever, it seems. That's a good sign. You'll be up in no time, which reminds me... You have some visitors eagerly waiting for a chance to see you. Apparently, the little creatures have grown quite fond of you. They've been very agitated since the events of last evening."

Sarah grimaced at the thought and said hastily, "No. No goblins! I don't think I'm able to bear them at the moment." She thought for a moment and admitted, smiling weakly, "Well, maybe, I could see Itys, if he's there."

"You won't be able to limit it to him," Phaedra warned her, quiet amusement in her voice. "Be prepared they'll be crowding the room as soon as they learn you've finally awake. At least half of the castle's staff waits behind your door. Only Jareth's threat to toss them into the Bog has kept them silent and out."

"Trust the goblins to do almost everything for the sake of a decent story or a song." Sarah snorted, but Phaedra shook her head slowly.

"I don't think they're only worried about getting their songs this time."

"Whatever you say," Sarah muttered, suddenly very much self-aware. "Um, what happened?"

"It seems my brother-in-law didn't have the most sincere thoughts in mind when arriving at the Underground. I'm sorry, I should have kept you away from him," Phaedra answered slowly.

"You couldn't know," Sarah reasoned faintly, recognizing the tone of self-accusation. "And I didn't know! Which is saying a lot, since I've grown rather used to seeing through people's lies. Part of the little gift Hermes bestowed me with," She blurted before she had time to think her words through and nearly bit her tongue, reprimanding herself for letting the secret out.

"I see..." Phaedra's fingers drummed against the chair's armrest. Sarah looked at her fearfully, expecting the woman would ask more but, apparently, she had something else in her mind. She spoke from a distance, "I talked with Jareth after you fell asleep. He might show up later today."

"He knows I'm awake?" Sarah asked in a small voice, swallowing nervously and glancing at the closed door as if expecting it to burst open and the wild-haired, dark-clad Goblin King to rush inside her room.

Phaedra's smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she glanced at her. "You're part of his kingdom. If he concentrates, he'd even be able to tell what you're wearing."

The thought made Sarah very uncomfortable and she shifted in the bed. "And what did he do to Dionysus? I heard you talking. You were worried he might do something rash, weren't you?"

Phaedra sighed. "He didn't do to him anything that would have a lasting effect. But rest assured, the god is now gone, banished from the Underground, and I doubt he'll be coming back any time soon."

"Well that's a comforting thought. However, it doesn't explain why he came…" Her voice died and face bleached as she remembered. The god has mentioned the heir of the Underground. Had he thought Toby would be there? Her mood dropped. "He came to see Toby, didn't he?"

"That is a subject I think you should discuss together with Jareth, not me," Phaedra replied flatly.

"You know what's going on! You have to tell me!" Sarah accused, struggling to sit, furious at her own feeble physical state.

"Don't use that tone with me, girl! No one tells me what to do," Phaedra snapped, her dark eyes flashing angrily.

She inhaled, her fury disappearing as soon as it had sparked to life. "Please. He's my brother. I haven't seen him in weeks. I go to bed each night, thinking all what might have happened to him. Blaming myself. I came here, gave up my freedom only to save him. And he's still missing," Sarah said quietly, looking down at her hands. To her own displeasure, a huge chunk stuck in her throat and made breathing difficult. She swallowed hard. "I need to know what's going on."

Phaedra shifted uneasily on her seat. She finally opened her mouth, admitting with evident reluctance, "There's a fair chance that someone might want to harm you and your brother."

"Me?" Sarah looked up, startled by Phaedra's words.

"You solved the Labyrinth to save your brother. The ties you share with Toby are not easily broken, and they do have power."

She frowned, pondering Phaedra's revelation, and asked finally, "Like power to rule the Labyrinth?"

She almost smiled. "Jareth did say you have a quick mind."

"But it doesn't make sense. I'm nothing special. There've been others who beat the Labyrinth, you said so yourself!"

Phaedra's posture stiffened, her eyes grew dark. A frown briefly crossed her face, like a painful memory. "Yes, there has been another, but it was a long, long before your time," she admitted softly, looking over Sarah's head at the bare wall. Her expression turned sour as if she didn't like what she saw.

"What happened to that person?"

Sarah's question startled Phaedra, who fixed her pensive eyes back on Sarah, speaking as not being aware of her own words. "She's somewhere else. She abandoned the Labyrinth and chose a different life for herself, rather like…you."

A distant memory from her previous life, a dream of another lifetime as it lately felt like, returned. In many ways, the Labyrinth changed her more than Sarah had hoped. She never could really forget its magic, the thrill of her adventure, and the concept of an inexistent magical maze bothered her for a long time. From where could such an entity come? What could be its origin? One of her first errands after her visit to the Underground had been a trip to local library's mythology section. Sarah knew something already by then; one didn't go totally unlearning even if only dreaming about plays and theaters. So, she headed to the dark corner in the silent building, crowded with tattered and dusty books about folklore and ancient myths.

_My brother-in-law...I'm not close with her…_

Suddenly, Phaedra's words started to make sense to her. "She's your sister, isn't she? Ariadne. You're talking about her!" Sarah accused. "That's why you're here!"

"As Jareth said. You have a quick mind," Phaedra replied somberly. "However, why I'm here has little to do with my sister and more with Jareth and you. And what comes to my sister and her husband, I can only assume."

"But I always thought Theseus solved the Labyrinth and killed the Minotaur. The legend never mentions anything else but Ariadne's thread," Sarah mused quietly, receiving a disapproving snort from Phaedra.

"Theseus was a vain and stupid man, but history is written by men."

"That's why Dionysus came here, isn't it?" Sarah insisted, furrowing her brows. "And what do you mean, with Jareth and me?"

She shook her head. "I fear that I've told too much already. Rest while you can, Sarah. I'll send one of my servants to bring you something to eat."

She couldn't hide the pouting expression that rose on her lips and glanced away, not wanting to show her disappointement to Phaedra. Fidgeting with her blanket, Sarah muttered reluctantly, "Thank you."

Phaedra stood up, pulling the veil over her head. She started fading gradually from her sight but her words echoed in the room for long time. "Think nothing about it."

Her words didn't make Sarah feel very much better.

Not long after Phaedra's departure, someone knocked on the door. Following the knock, Jareth swept inside, wearing his trademark sneer – and without her invitation, Sarah noticed rather sourly. She could hear the excited murmurs following at his heels and sighed, almost wishing the Goblin King had transported inside instead of pretending to be courteous. The goblins weren't stupid. If their King entered her room, they must realize Sarah was awake, which meant she'd soon have to suffer from their company. Not that she disliked them, but even a mere thought of enduring a bunch of goblins together with her throbbing headache made her wince.

Jareth stopped a few feet from her bed. "I see you've kept your habit of getting yourself in mortal danger."

Sarah stared at the king, unbelieving her ears. Her annoyance sparkled to life, and she sat straighter on her bed. "Thank you for caring. If it was a threat, then why did you invite that group of homicidal musicians and their master to the Underground?"

"I didn't invite them, woman! They invited themselves," Jareth snapped, frowning. "I can't truly turn a god away even if I wanted that."

"Yes, naturally. Forgive me for questioning your upbringing. You're so noble after all. I should have never said that, _your majesty,_" Sarah retorted back, folding her arms on her chest, and Jareth glanced at her darkly, speaking through his clenched teeth.

"Don't strain my patience, Sarah. I don't have any desire to jeopardize your life."

"No, not anymore, I guess," Sarah answered, feeling suddenly so very tired, and looked away. "You must be proud of yourself? Having me lured to the Underground and tied under your rule while having my brother in your grasp all the time?" She let out a dry humorless laugh. "You must've laughed at me, my trust in you returning Toby back to his family. God, I've been so stupid!"

He remained silent.

"I heard his words. You plan to have Toby as your heir," Sarah muttered quietly, turning to look back at him. "You wanted it all the time, didn't you?"

His jaw tightened, a muscle quivering slightly. "What I plan and what I want are two totally different things. Never confuse them, Sarah."

"How can you be so cruel?" Sarah whispered, feeling the unshed tears burning behind her eyes. She swallowed, forcing them at bay. "We had a deal. I thought -- I thought I could trust you." She hated herself for sounding so whiny and feeling so betrayed.

"Nothing's changed." Jareth stepped closer, watching her cautiously and his tone softening. "I return the boy back to his world as agreed. What becomes of him after he's grown, I can only assume."

"New Goblin King. I heard that quite well," Sarah countered angrily. "Is that why you kidnap small children? Because you're unable to conceive one yourself!"

She didn't even see him moving. Suddenly, his face was nearly touching hers, mismatched eyes gleaming dangerously, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. "You should be very careful with your accusations," Jareth hissed in a low voice, his eyes only narrow slits in his face. "There are many things you don't know about me." He touched her cheek, skimming over her skin, feather-like, pausing to feel her frightened pulse against his fingers. A grim grin spread over his lips. "Do you want me to show you how capable I truly am, Sarah?" he inquired softly.

"Don't touch me!" Sarah gasped, jerking further from him. "You disgust me!"

Smiling harshly, he tilted his head his eyes masked. "Do I, Sarah?"

"Yes!" Putting on a brave face, she raised her chin and met his gaze. "You're a manipulative, repulsive and cruel beast!"

"Bold words, Sarah," Jareth mocked coldly, bending closer. "You better be able to prove them true."

"I don't have to prove anything!" she gasped, pulling further into the safety of her bed, staring at him aghast. Her mouth felt dry, and she shivered at the sudden flash she saw passing in his eyes. Her heartbeat in her ears was so loudly she was certain Jareth must hear the sound too.

"You don't seem to be as sure as you claim. Maybe it's your own reaction you fear?" His breath tickled her skin, the ends of his light hair fleetingly touching her neckline.

"I'm not afraid of you!" Sarah quickly answered. "You have no--!"

"You _dare_?" Jareth interrupted before she had time to say the words. Sarah's skin crawled at his voice and she recoiled from him as he touched her dark hair with a cool air about him, speaking lazily, "Tsk, tsk. Such imprudent child; talking to your King that way." He whisked a mass of her hair behind her ears, trailing his fingers over her neck. His hold on her neck intensified, bordering painful as he forced her to keep her head still. "I should punish you for your manners. But generous as I am, I'll strike a deal with you." There was no doubt about a gleeful flicker behind his eyes. "I'm not the one to back away from a challenge."

"I'm not taking part in any of your twisted games." Sarah muttered darkly, silently cursing the dark-clad Goblin King hovering over her like a malicious fiend. "You don't play fair!"

"And neither do you," Jareth reminded, releasing his hold. Yet, he didn't pull away. Instead, his eyes grew dark and he stroked his thumb over her skin, almost gently. "You know, a man could lose his mind for you and your endless requests…" he muttered absently.

"I've never asked anything from you," Sarah answered stiffly, tense under his touch, almost anxious at his tone. What the heck was he planning now?

He appeared to snap back to his senses, releasing his hold, and pulled himself upright. "Oh, but you did. You asked me to take Toby."

"And God knows how I've regretted that! Ever since that night, he's been different. You did something to him, you changed him," Sarah accused, and his gaze turned distant. Unhurried, he sat on the bench Phaedra had occupied only moment ago. Nothing visible changed in him but somehow Sarah got the feeling he was unsure. The thought was odd. Why would he be uncertain about anything? As if sensing her thoughts, he turned to her, speaking softly, "No, Sarah. It was all because of you."

"Because of me? What on earth are you talking about? I did nothing to him!" she resisted heatedly, sitting straighter on her bed and facing the Goblin King, finding solace in her anger.

"You asked your brother to be taken. Like a fool, I came and agreed to let you try to win him back; and trust me when I tell that is generous. Many never have that chance," Jareth said with a scowl. "Regardless of my better judgment, I agreed to your demands. I gave you time, companions, and in the end I even gave you dreams."

"You tried to trick me!" Sarah snapped. "The ball was just a bluff, means to make me forget about Toby."

"And you forgot…for awhile at least," Jareth reminded quietly, and Sarah felt a blush creeping on her cheek, images of crystals, chandeliers, masks and dancing couples gliding through her eyes. She looked away, uncomfortable at the memory, hearing the fabric of his shirt rustling softly as he shifted on the chair. "However, you broke the dream, parading through the Labyrinth like a mad harridan, reaching the centre of its heart." Jareth continued in a quiet voice.

"How does this have anything to do with Toby?"

He sighed exasperatedly, "Sarah, there're always consequences. I might have returned the boy back to his world but the Labyrinth isn't just some senseless lump of rock. It's alive, magical; and it's wild. It recognizes sacrifices, craves them. When whisked away, a child never keeps its true form. Not because I'd wanted it so, mind you. It's part of the nature of Labyrinth; it changes people..." He lifted his finger, preventing Sarah from interrupting him. "You must understand that the Underground has existed long before me and has a mind of its own. Even I don't always know what happens deep within its core, and I'm something that is essentially part of the land. When you won your brother back, Toby became the closest thing staying at the heart of the Labyrinth while keeping his form unchanged."

"You're trying to say the Labyrinth did it? Changed Toby?" She almost wheezed, staring at him with her mouth gaping open.

A jaded smile lingered on his lips. "Only because you insisted on getting him back. I warned you, Sarah," he reminded. "I told you to turn back."

"And abandon my brother?" Sarah asked, outraged. "What did you expect of me? I'd never forgive myself had I done so."

"No, I guess not. You're way too defiant for following any sort of advice," Jareth sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. When he looked at her again, an air of vague sadness lingered about him, marring his face. "I didn't plan nor did I want any of this to happen."

"If that's meant to comfort me, you're doing a terrible job," Sarah said icily, glaring at him.

Jareth let out a choked sound, narrowing his eyes. Abruptly, he stood up, walking further from her bed. "Now why would I want to comfort you?" he asked in a harsh voice, back turned to her. "Especially, since I have every reason to hate you, Sarah. You basically overthrew me, imposing your brother as my successor."

She opened and closed her mouth, staring at his back, before she managed to speak aloud, "But you --" She snapped her mouth shut and accused. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

He turned. "And what could you've done, Sarah?" Jareth asked tiredly, glancing briefly at the ceiling. "Run the Labyrinth another time?" He shook his head, fixing his eyes on her.

"You should have told me this a long time ago!" she repeated slowly. "Should have let me know. Thing's could have gone differently. I don't know." She made a helpless gesture with her hands. "All of this could have been avoided. Now, instead, my brother's gone, maybe in perilous danger, while I'm trapped to spend eternity here."

"Yes, I can imagine enduring my company must feel appalling to you." Jareth answered with a sudden rancor.

"Why do you insist everything has to do with you?" Sarah asked with a sigh, too weary to be angry with him.

"Me?" He let a dry, humorless laugh. "By all means, believe so if it makes you feel better." Jareth tilted his head and measured her with masked eyes.

Something in his expression, made her to take a deep swallow. "You're not making any sense," Sarah complained hoarsely, earning a careless shrug from Jareth.

"No, I guess you're right," he admitted lightly, taking a step closer. The sudden change bothered Sarah. His voice was too light, his behavior too agreeable.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" she asked hastily, all of a sudden remembering they were alone in her bedroom. "Like pester some goblins, look for my brother?"

He stopped as pondering her words and then smiled crookedly, closing the distance between them. "Well, as it stands. No, not at the moment."

"I already said," Sarah replied, facing him with a faked bravado. Pretending not to notice her treacherous heart that jumped to her throat, she continued, "I'm not taking part in any of your games."

Jareth arched his brow, reaching out his hand. "If I recall correctly, you were the one challenging my…capabilities." His voice was laced with dark desire as he let Sarah's hair slide through his fingers. "Then claiming everything revolves around me. Naturally, if this is true, I have a reputation to keep up."

"I didn't mean what I said!" Sarah gasped quickly.

"What's said is said," he mocked her softly, trailing his finger over her skin, sending shivers all over her body. His eyes flashed at her reaction. "You of all people should know that."

"Don't you even dare," Sarah warned huskily, furious at him twisting her words. She clenched her blanket with her knuckles white, trying to pull further from him, and whimpered as he grasped her tightly, forcing her to stay still.

"Dare what?" Jareth purred, leaning closer. His breath tickled her skin. "Do tell me, Sarah."

"Jareth, please let go of me," she whispered nervously, avoiding his eyes.

"Only after you've answered my question," he insisted with an uncanny carelessness, and Sarah's abdomen made a violent lurch. She bit her lip and looked at her side, mumbling something she hoped would satisfy Jareth.

"I didn't quite catch you," Jareth's voice quivered, and Sarah's sight turned crimson at the quiet laughter she could detect in his voice. She jerked her head straight, staring into his eyes, and snapped, "Oh, hell with you! I said, kiss me."

His eyes flashed triumphantly, and his smile was like that of a cat that just had caught a mouse. "If you insist…"


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I updated! Sorry for the lateness though. Life's been hectic last months. Again, I'm eternally grateful at Anaknusan for her help. You're the greatest!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth.

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter 13

Too late Sarah realized her own mistake, she barely had time to gasp aloud, "No! Jar--" His lips, brushing against hers, overrode the rest, his alluring musky scent enfolding around her. Her response was instinctual; she tried to pull away only to find he kept her face firmly still. The curving of his lips, the detectable smile against her skin, stirred up her resistance.

"Nn--" Again, he muffled her words with his mouth, taking full advantage of her parted lips, his tongue delving deeper in the cave of her mouth. She blinked, trying to cast away the wooziness of his proximity, his odd unearthly fragrance. He moved closer and carefully sat at the edge of her bed, the bed's springs squeaked faintly. The sound, though quiet, shattered the spell that threatened to engulf her, and she gasped, out of breath, turning her head and evading his lips. "No, I can't."

"Sarah," Jareth hushed while tasting the skin below her ear in a languid manner. "Such a tease…" Sarah inhaled sharply as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, nibbling her earlobe. Coiling her hair around his fingers, he gently coerced her to face him. The denial died on her lips as their eyes met, his gaze all darkness and desire. Her own face burned, her breathing sounded irregular; she found it hard to move. The world narrowed, focused on him. She could always pull back. She should, a little voice within her kept shouting. But what exactly did she fear? He fascinated and attracted her, Sarah grudgingly admitted, shuddering at the sensation his touch. Denying him now wouldn't change that.

With an audible breath escaping her lips, Sarah leaned into his kiss. Her hands rose to touch his face, the curve of his jaw, marveling at the softness of his wild-looking hair. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him closer and answered his kisses eagerly.

When Jareth pulled away, he did so with a reluctant sigh, carelessly stroking her jaw and neck with his fingertips. Sarah shuddered at his sporadic, almost absentminded, touches. Bringing her hand to her mouth, she touched her lips gingerly. His gaze narrowed at her movement; an amused smile appearing on his lips. The sight of Jareth's smug face snapped her out of the feverish daze and she jerked herself away. The blood rushed to her cheeks and she rubbed her mouth as though to wipe off all marks of their kiss.

"You--" Sarah cringed at her husky voice, laced with undeniable hunger. "I didn't want you to--" her voice broke anew.

He tilted his head, wearing that same trifle smile on his face. "Do continue, Sarah. I'm simply _dying_ to hear the rest." Beneath the buoyant reply was a triumphal undertone like an invitation for Sarah to claim her vicious denial.

Vowing she wouldn't give him any more chances to use her, or show any sign of weaknesses, she started, "You had no right--"

"I had all the right, Sarah." He cut in, a steely glint now in his gaze, and leaned closer. Despite only moments ago Sarah decided she wouldn't be intimated, she shrunk back. Almost lazily, he added, "You asked for it yourself."

She opened her mouth to deny his words but thought better of it and snapped it closed while giving him a dirty look. Sarah's dark silence only appeared to amuse him as he stretched out his hand to brush hair from her eyes.

"You cheated!" Sarah grounded out her reply, straining as far from him as the backrest of her bed allowed.

"Naturally." Her mood plunged at the gullible tone of his easy admission, and he smiled, baring his teeth and shaking his head softly. "But I didn't see you putting up too much resistance. From your response, I would think the opposite."

"Think whatever you want to!" she huffed pass the point of any caution. Finding necessary strength in the bitterness of her bruised ego, she declared, "This won't happen ever again. You can be sure of that!"

"Ever is a long time," Jareth agreed without any apparent concern of her anger. "Yet no more than a fraction of forever." She could almost hear the words, tangible in the air - _not long at all…_

"I meant what I said! Never again!" Sarah barely stopped herself from pounding her fist on the bed and trying not to think of the implication of his words.

"Still the child, I see," Jareth tutted, his gaze narrowing at her reaction.

"Oh, you've got nerve!" Sarah's anger burned away her humiliation, for a moment at least. "One could imagine being a king would help you develop even some maturity. You're just as conceited as you were ten years ago!"

"I'd paid closer heed to what I allowed coming out of such a pretty mouth. A terrible waste, really," he hissed, mouth bending to a snarl.

Her teeth clasped together and she found odd comfort in her anger that obscured the uneasy elation somewhere in the pit of her abdomen. Her irritation gave her the strength she didn't remember owning. "Waste or not, that's mine to decide." Sarah fixed her chin in a defying posture.

"Truly?" Jareth arched his eyebrow with an unmatched elegancy, straightening his back. His voice oozed contempt. "You appear to have a quaint little habit of forgetting some essentials in your situation."

"You can't decide everything for me. Especially not my wants and want-nots!" Sarah snapped.

"I take only that which is offered to me. You should do well to remember that, Sarah. And I didn't hear you complaining," Jareth reminded darkly, and his lips curled up in a ridiculing sneer at her shocked expression. "I thought so too…"

She clenched her fists together, staring at Jareth with her eyes burning.

He got up, walking further from the bed and turned. "As enlightening as this conversation has been, I fear, Sarah, it has to come to an end. I do hate to disappoint you but it seems I have to bid you _adieu_."

"Such a pity," she growled. The faster he was out of her sight, the better. She felt sick in the stomach, the taste of his lips lingering in her mouth. She wanted to rub herself with a hard-edged brush everywhere he'd touched her.

"Yes, I agree. However, I hope you don't pine too much after me." He sneered. "I'll see you soon."

"She didn't have time to contemplate his words, or was it a threat?, any further.. As though sensing their master's retreat, a high-pitched cry tore her consciousness, the door slammed open and a wild flock of shrieking goblins packed in. Despite being prepared, Sarah's breath escaped and her vision blurred when Mikos hurled himself atop of her stomach.

"Sarah's awake! Mikos waited whole night outside. The King threatened he'd toss Mikos into the smelly bog up to Mikos' beautiful tail but Mikos stayed!" He fluttered his eyelashes and grinned with a whole row of his sharp yellow teeth: a gesture that was apparently intended to produce a prominent sense of safety in her. "Look what Mikos brought!" He proudly presented a dead rat, dangling the animal in his hairy fingers, and Sarah swallowed down her gag. "Other goblins wanted to eat Mikos' present, but Mikos said, 'This is for Sarah', and then everyone wanted to give their own present to Sarah. But Mikos invented it first."

A group of dirty fingers and hands pushed forward, each holding some sort of dead animal, rodent or similar. The goblins screamed with delight, talking over each other. The odor and the noise were unbearable. Putting on a smile, Sarah thanked each of them, explaining that, sadly, she had to decline from their fantastic presents. No, she wasn't hungry. Yes. The goblins had been very nice to wait for her, guarding at her door. Bitterly, Sarah thought, they could have protected her from their monarch as well. With a brutal efficiency, she forced the memory of his touch and the lingering aftertaste of his lips out of her mind, jerking her head as if seeing the Goblin King smirking knowingly at her. The bastard! Her hands clutched involuntarily as her gaze took an absentminded wander over the goblins' head, and sighed. She shook her head, noticing then a tiny figure at the entrance. The sight was a welcome interruption of her recurring thoughts.

Her face lightened. "Itys, please come here! Come and join us!" She patted the cover of her bed. For a moment, she forgot the Goblin King, enjoying from the company of the goblins. At least they were clean of any hidden agendas their master might have for her demise.

o O o

_That night she dreamed being in the dark. She couldn't move or see around her. Everything felt different, the weight of her body, the dry dusty air. She let out a frightened scream, realizing her eyes were covered, her hands tied up. She was imprisoned. How did this happen? Where was she? Everywhere she heard strange sounds, like birds cooing, croaking and crying. And then, Sarah's ears perked, she discerned a human-like voice._

"_You should hurry. The barriers won't keep him at bay for long," the rasping sound of a man sounded oddly familiar, tickling a distant memory._

"_The alignment's not right yet, and I need her. The ritual can't be performed without her." There was a hard edge in the voice of a speaker, an air of command and power._

"_You're wasting your time," the man snickered. "She's bound to the land and its king, and he'll be flying through the skies the moment he senses her whereabouts were you to abduct her."_

"_That's a complication, true, but not impossible to overcome," Sarah shivered at the coldness she heard in a voice, an undertone of uncaring madness. "Did you bring me what I asked?"_

_The familiar-sounding man sighed, "Yes."_

_She heard shuffling sound as something was given away; and then, "You're certain it's what I requested?"_

"_She gave it away by her own hands. It's hers, you can be certain about it."_

_The other man let out a cackling sound, "As I said, only a complication." Sarah heard steps, and whimpered, sensing someone standing next to her, leaning closer. Like an unseen dread, darkness falling over her froze her veins. A breath tickled her skin, "Oh, don't you worry, boy. You're sister shall soon be with us…"_

"_Sarah!"_

o O o

She woke up feeling even more sapped, details of the dream already evading her waking mind. Her head was light-headed but, grunting stubbornly, she forced herself up and limped, half-aslee,p across the floor and, barely aware of the soft fabric of her pale blue dress, slipped it over her head. As with most of her present dresses, this too remained faithful to the style of an old world, leaving her arms bare. Folding the embroidered leather belt around her waist, she wandered sleepy eyed out of the room.

At the sight of her groggy appearance, Phaedra asked, a trace of worry in her words, "Are you certain you want to get up, Sarah? You still look rather tired."

"No, I'm fine!" Sarah assured, all awake now, cringing at her outrageous lie. But she wasn't willing to take her change and have Jareth visiting her in similar circumstances. Blushing vaguely without any apparent reason, she stole a glance over her back, half-expecting and half-afraid to see the figure of the king lounging carefree against the wall. No one was there but she couldn't banish the feeling of being followed. She gritted her teeth, trying to rein in her paranoia.

The tingling sensation followed her throughout the day and made her jumpy. Her nerves were in a wreck by the evening, and her mood dropped more when Phaedra told her to attend the dinner. She had an uncomfortable feeling Jareth would bring up their yesterday's tête-à-tête somehow. What would Phaedra think about it? Sarah quickly glanced at Phaedra as she followed the woman but, as usual, Phaedra's feelings remained unknown.

They reached the dining hall and there was no more time to deliberation. Jareth walked up to meet them with an effortless pace. He was wearing dark-blue coat today with cuffs turned back to reveal lace spilling over his hands; shining white shirt left half undone to display his silver-gold pendant. His flaxen hair around his stark face, more wild than usual, shone like gold. His whole presence permeated the room, and Sarah's cheeks flushed, a ghostly memory of the touch of his mouth tickling on her lip.

"Sarah. Pleasing to see you up already. I trust you're feeling well tended?"

She forced the angry retort down her throat and smiled tersely, "Yes, thank you."

She could feel Phaedra's thoughtful eyes on her during the meal. Not daring to meet her stare, Sarah forked her food viciously. _Stupid Goblin King,_ Sarah berated. _Trust him to turn everything for his benefit. _She frowned at the steak on her plate. Since spending a day in her bed, she had excessive time to ponder Jareth's explanation, which led to kind of a revelation. From a certain perspective, he had spoken the truth. She couldn't claim for sure that Toby's disappearance could have been avoided, but, on the other hand, her current problem, namely that she was now stuck in the Underground, resulted from her lack of knowledge. Jareth could have enlightened her if he wanted. Why hadn't he?

And what else didn't she know?

Phaedra's sudden movement caught her attention, shattering Sarah's contemplations. "Jareth, would you kindly keep some company to Sarah while I'm away?" she asked, face troubled.

He sounded equally surprised as Sarah was at her sudden departure. "Of course. Is something wrong?"

"No, no. I'm fine. I only forgot to check on something," Phaedra replied pensively, glancing at Sarah before turning away. "I'll be back soon."

They remained seated, and Sarah kept her eyes glued to her plate.

"You've been very silent, Sarah," Jareth commented at last.

"I guess that's because I have nothing to say to you." Contradicting her vicious glare, Sarah's voice came out sugary, but Jareth only smiled at the petulant words and leaned into a more comfortable position.

"Testy today, aren't we?"

She sighed, letting go of her pretence, put the fork on the table and faced him. "Jareth, what do you want now?"

"Me?" He quirked his brown, voice tinged with mock surprise. The lights on the walls wavered and cast shadows around them, and the logs in the fireplace cracked. He tilted his head face unreadable. "You're a contradictory creature, Sarah, a puzzle, if you like. I wonder if that is the only reason for your penchant for disasters."

"That's hardly an explanation," Sarah hissed and tensed as Jareth placed his hands on the table, his clothes letting out a soft sound at the movement.

She could swear she detected a half-hidden smile behind his eyes as he agreed, "No, it's not. But I rather like the metaphor."

Something in the way he said it pinched the bottom of her abdomen and, banishing her resentment, she wrenched her gaze from him. "I'm not some puzzle waiting to be solved", she muttered while firmly studying her half-eaten meal, uncomfortable with his attention.

"No, you definitely lack patience for the waiting part."

He was baiting her, Sarah grasped and, the previous encounter in mind, kept her silence. It strained her nerves, the stillness enhancing the uneasy atmosphere residing in the room. Not for the first time Sarah found herself mystified by Jareth. She had lived under his roof for some time yet she knew nothing about him -- some trifle conversations he shared with Phaedra in her presence. Other than that, she had nothing tangible. What did it mean to be a Goblin King? Had he been born to his task or had he once been a child whisked away? Did he require sleep like her? What were his dreams like? His fears?

Unable to keep her curiosity on hold, she asked, "Jareth, how will Toby's disappearance affect on you? Or the Labyrinth?"

"And why would you want to know that?" His voice came out dangerous low, the cold mask descending over his features. The Goblin King didn't look pleased at all.

"I only wondered…" her words faded away.

"I guess you hope to see me gone, Sarah? Maybe you consider that a change of a king might prove to be an improvement for your situation?" His light tone prickled Sarah's skin and the harsh look in his eyes didn't bode well on her behalf.

"That's not what I meant! You've been a ruler of this place for -- Gods know how long. This is your home, your kingdom. The goblins know you, I guess sometimes even like you… Why would I want to see you losing it?"

His countenance remained aloof and the uneven eyes dark, but the stiffness of his shoulders eased, slightly. "For reasons I don't need to explain I find your words hard to believe."

The allusion stirred up her anger. _Like he was the only one losing everything?_

"Why do you keep insisting that I'd be planning this beforehand? I would never put my own brother in a danger on purpose! And if you think that I rejoice seeing Toby as a future Goblin King, you're making an even bigger mistaken. Especially if the consequence is becoming someone like you, you better believe I rather see him as anything but." Placing the napkin on her plate, Sarah sprung up on her feet. "I think I've lost my appetite. Kindly convey my pardons to Phaedra, but I think I need to retreat to my room. I'm not feeling quite well."

She made it to half way of the dining room. "Not so fast." Jareth moved without her detecting or hearing it, grasping her tightly from the arms and spinning her around. "I'm not through with you yet, Sarah," he snarled.

The angry snap died on her lips, her anger flickered and waned. She swallowed, the scent of his skin surrounding her, the touch of his glove-clad hands reminding her about the last time she'd been so close to him. "Let go of me, Jareth." Surprised by how calm she sounded, Sarah fixed her stare on his chest and watched its steady moving. The black feathers – crows?– twined in his midnight-colored coat swayed gently, the column of sparkling crystal buttons, a nice flare in his outfit, ensnared her eyes.

In equally flat voice, he answered, "No."

She sighed before looking up. The angle of his jaw appeared even sharper. His mouth was cast in tight line as he returned her stare with hooded eyes.

"As much as you distrust me, at least believe that I have no desire to see you removed from your position, whether by my brother or anyone else." She kept her tone leveled.

His face remained impassive. "And still you are the cause of the very same outcome through your careless words."

She cringed. "I was selfish, I admit, wishing Toby away. But what would you want me to do: abandon Toby?" She let out a dry humorless chortle. "He was -- is my brother."

"Do you honestly expect me to accept that as an explanation?" His words came out as a snarl, barely hiding his irk. "Nothing changes the fact _you_ started this chain of most unfortunate events."

"Well, then, you should have left my wish unanswered!" Sarah snapped.

"Sarah, you don't appear to understand the extent of my position." Jareth leaned closer, his breath tickling her lips and his voice but a whisper. "When someone utters the words, meaning them, it calls for the attention of the Labyrinth. You asked the child to be taken away, twice. One time can be thought as a joke. Second time, never. I admit that your first wish was but bragging words yet it doesn't change the fact your underlying meaning remained the same. You repeated the plea."

"And I took my chance. I reached the castle, fair and square; those were the terms." She tried to jerk her arm free but found the act rather futile in his steel-hard grip. Giving up her pointless struggle, she faced him chin courageously up. "But had you immediately told me what my victory meant, Toby might still be safe. This isn't only about you losing your precious throne but you losing in your stupid game!"

The following silence could have shattered kingdoms. Realizing she had gone too far, she swallowed down a heavy lump in her throat.

"Careful, Sarah." The looming threat of his words tingled on her nerves and she whimpered at the force of his grip. His face remained cold, expressionless.

_Intimidation could work both ways._ Feigning braveness, she raised her chin and met his angry eyes. "Just go on and threaten me. When magic tricks and illusions fail to work, terrorizing is what you know best, right?"

_Or then not_.

"Terrorizing?" His almost casual tone, warm breath against her skin, and tightening grip on her arm caused her to shiver. His voice acquired a frosty quality and he leaned closer. "Sarah, I assure you, if terror is what you require, I can do a lot worse."

Only then the depth of his ire reached her mind and the panic emerged with such a force it nearly knocked her breathless. She started struggling, anxious of the rage behind his gaze. "Let me go!" she demanded, nervous.

Instead of obeying, he twisted her arms so strongly tears surged in her eyes.

"Jareth! Don't!" It came out more like a muffled cry.

"You should have considered that before your hasty accusation, Sarah." Jareth's voice reached her through a thick mist of obscuring pain. He twisted her arm harder, and she groaned, yielding to the aching pressure. "I'm a fair man, Sarah. No one can say anything else."

"I hardly…describe this as fair." Sarah panted and tears leaked through her eyes.

"Don't tell me, Sarah, I'm not meeting your expectations?" His same, calm tone conflicted with the brutality of his assault.

"I didn't…ask this!" She choked, bending even steeper, until she found herself in an almost horizontal angle. She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes and swallowing her cries. Sarah heard him saying something more but didn't catch the words, her mind burning up with the pain.

Another bolt of ache coerced through her body, bolting her eyes open. She strained to focus on his words, her world a whirling mixture of pain. When her gaze focused, she made out his figure, face only inches away from her.

"Jareth, stop this…" half-aware of her rough voice, she gasped aloud.

"Regretting your words again, Sarah? Tsk, tsk." He was mocking her, looming above her like a shadow sprung to life. "I'm not surprised. You never could handle the outcome of your wishes."

His ridicule had the opposite effect. It returned her strength, if only momentarily. Sarah jarred his teeth and hissed, uncaring of the moistness in her eyes, "Go ahead then! Do your best. You have no power over me!"

Her reply ignited his fury. He lowered his face even closer, lips almost touching hers. "You swallow down your words, Sarah. Trust me. I'll make you to --" unexpectedly, his voice trailed off and his body immobilized. Fixing his eyes over her, he looked across the room. Pain forgotten, curiosity replacing her fear, Sarah glanced toward the same direction. Her knees buckled beneath her, and for once, she was happy that Jareth's hands supported her weight when she realized Phaedra stood at the door. She watched them, had been watching them for – who knew how long.

Did she imagine it, or did Phaedra's eyes twinkle briefly? Sarah blinked and the sight disappeared, the woman's face a pure epitome of dignity as she measured them coolly. "I hope I'm not…interrupting anything?"

"No." To her relief, Jareth regained his self-control, the pressure of his fingers digging into her skin releasing their hold. "Sarah and I were just discussing that she better go to her room. She's still strained because of the Panic Song. Isn't it so, Sarah?" He glanced at her, warningly.

"Yes." Her words a hiss, she pulled herself straight and snatched herself free, quickly backing away. A step. Another. Green eyes challenging of a pair of uneven ones, she kept her stare. A muscle in his jaw twitched, his eyes flashed darkly.

"Goodnight, Sarah."

She didn't answer. Turning around, she passed Phaedra and, keeping her head high, left the room slowly.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Special big thanks to my beta, Anaknusan. And those who want to know about the next update, chapter 16 is already under work.

And, no, I still don't own the Labyrinth.

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter 14

_-and naked I came to you, looking like a woman-  
__Edith Södergran_

o O o

To Sarah's relief, Phaedra didn't say anything the following day when Sarah joined her for breakfast; only inspected the brim of her decorative porcelain cup hiding her features before she turned to look out the window and took a long sip of her tea. Sarah took the opposite seat and, after a prolonged silence, gazed toward the same direction. The courtyard was still empty, goblins, lazy creatures as they were, preferred to sleep until midday. Besides, Sarah's lip twitched, they had held a secret party last night with an outstanding volume of beer, rum and various drinks of which the contents of she'd rather not know.

Distracted, she sipped her coffee, staring out into the distance, and a small smile tugged her lips as she remembered the outrageous lyrics of their songs. Their company had soothed some of her anxiety, even if she didn't stay long at the party.

Beyond the castle's walls, she saw the city's rooftops; the mixed jigsaw of diagonal forms and angles, pipes and tiny windows; and above it all hovering clouds, their gloomy shadow cast over the city – and the Labyrinth. The maze looked different from this perspective, the corridors extending into the distance, the borders of the Goblin King's land barely visible from the high perch of Phaedra's balcony. Had the little fairy community that nestled within the thick stonewall, covered in vines and murals, increased since Hoggle's banishment? She vanquished from her mind the faint echo of sorrow and fury at the king's unjust decision.

Unexpectedly, a part of the distant Labyrinth disappeared from her sight, as if sucked into the ground, only to be replaced by the confusing array of corridors. Sarah's eyes squinted at a remote lake that only moments ago had been a dense forest, and she wondered if her own trip through the maze had been easier if she knew now that there were thousands of different options possible. What would it feel like to travel the Labyrinth another time? Sarah tapped her coffee cup, lifting it to her lips. What would it be like to travel the Labyrinth backward?

Noticing that she was drinking coffee goo instead of the desired reviving liquid, she sighed and turned her attention back to the room, which was when she noticed Phaedra was watching her keenly, eyes glimmering with an unexplainable glint of intrigue.

"What are you thinking?" The words were out of Sarah's mouth before she had time to consider and a sudden anxiety rolling over her. How much had Phaedra heard yesterday, and what did she think about it?

A rueful smile curled up the corner of Phaedra's lip. "The past." Her honest answer, the candor resonating in her voice, was not something Sarah had expected to hear, not after such a scheming expression. As if shocked by her own answer, Phaedra got up abruptly, her gaze avoiding Sarah and seeking the faraway maze instead. "I think I call for a bath." Her voice was quiet. "Would you accompany me, Sarah?"

"Sure," Sarah muttered, a flickering frustration creasing her forehead.

The corridors were silent, void of goblins as they made their way through, Sarah wondering at the feeling of something being off while not truly able to trace the shift. Surely, it couldn't be of Phaedra witnessing Sarah's row with Jareth.

"What especially were you thinking of?" Sarah finally asked, metering her steps to Phaedra's pace.

The woman didn't react, her eyes focused on the grey stones beneath her slippers and confessed after a lingering hesitation, "My family… and husband."

"Can I…" Sarah started, licking her lip. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Phaedra stopped. Her lip curled up at Sarah words and she inclined her head, her dark eyes unreadable. "You can. It doesn't mean though, that I will answer."

Sarah brushed the haughtiness of her answer aside, following Phaedra as she started down the stairs, and pried, "What kind of person was you sister? And Theseus?"

With her back turned to her, the layer of dark curls brushing against her shoulders, she couldn't tell Phaedra's feelings. But the sudden stiffening of the shoulders, the sharp angles of the shoulder blade jutting beneath the skin spoke their own language.

"Ariadne?" Phaedra muttered faintly, and Sarah imagined detecting a slight tremble in her voice. "She was dark haired, fair skinned and slender as a willow. Beautiful, they said, like a starry night above the restless sea. Beautiful and innocent and cruel. Like the sea. Like a child."

The choice of words confused Sarah, warned her not to push her luck, but no one had ever accused her of being subtle. Stubbornly, she persisted, staring after Phaedra, "You said she abandoned the Labyrinth?"

Phaedra gave a resigned sigh, a motion of surrender, and glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes gleamed in the dim light of the staircase.

"Sarah. I rather not tell you the tale that is not only mine to share. However, if you will, I can tell you how both the Labyrinth and Theseus came to be in my life."

"Theseus was your husband, wasn't he?" Sarah inquired, curious, and sped up to walk next to Phaedra.

Her curved smile could have been mistaken for amusement but there was no true mirth in Phaedra's gaze. "Yes, after a given time." She lifted her head, revealing her profile, her strong nose, and the delicate structure of her cheekbones.

"I can picture him so clearly, see him the way I first saw him: a rash youth, a light beard just starting to swathe his chin - I thought him more a boy when he was brought to the castle in a group of twelve white-clad youngsters. He was older than me but still a child, having learnt about his royal heritage only months ago. Yet he was willing to sacrifice himself for his country." Phaedra's voice grew weary. "I guess Theseus always was loyal to his kingdom even if not to his women. He abandoned Ariadne on the island of Naxos and married me years afterwards."

She fell into silence that stretched around them like a snake. It was the silence of a person who had seen too much and could not forget. Silence that lingered in the way she tread the corridors, move her arms, wear her billowing dress – elegant yet jaded. Her silence hung about on the angle of birdlike slender shoulders, older than the stone; silence of a woman who had grown tired of living.

Sighing, Sarah already gave up of her fancy that she would learn more. They reached the ground floor. The tiny windows above their heads cast a scant amount of light, the dusky light of the clouded day dim in the corridor, when, suddenly, Phaedra spoke.

"I'm always surprised of how vivid these memories are. So many years have passed; I've seen heroes coming and going. Centuries slip through my fingers, turn into a blur of faceless faces and nameless places – infinity of time can have that affect. But I remember my home the way it used to be as though I sat on the stone bench of my father's garden only yesterday and listened to my mother's soft voice spinning tales of moon, stars and the gods."

She raised her head, staring into the distance as if truly seeing to the past. The absent facial furrows emerged as the years - the centuries caught up with her. With her air of power abandoning her, she looked plain and tired, a lonely old woman. It was a startling sight.

"I can smell the tender blend of sun, seaweed, fish and salt; hear the carriages traveling the road, and the clinking sound of armor as sturdy soldiers cross the courtyard below my room, their spears and sheathed swords gleaming blood red under the burning sun."

"I hear my sisters' voices; see their shapes running through the castle corridors; feel the hefty laughter of my father warming my heart, see his stormy eyes luminous with love when he gazes at my mother."

"I can envision the sea, spreading clear and azure blue around the harbor…" she took a long breath, asking in a choked voice without looking at Sarah, "Have you ever seen my isle, Sarah? Have you ever been in my homeland?"

Even though Phaedra couldn't see the gesture, Sarah shook her head. "I'm sorry. No. I've never even had a chance to visit Europe."

Phaedra's dark mood shattered, for some reason she appeared to be amused with Sarah's choice of words.

"You people, how carelessly you name and call places. Europe, indeed," she snorted. "Another brutal joke of gods, I presume. But this is not her story. This is a story about a prince, destined to become a king, a princess, and a monster that was slain. This is a story about my father and his witch queen. And eventually, in some ways, also a story about the labyrinth."

Sarah blinked. "You mean the book?"

Phaedra gave her an exasperated sideways look. "You silly girl. I was talking about Minos' labyrinth," she reprimanded her both gently and tiredly.

"Are you saying this used to be Minos' labyrinth?" Sarah waved in the general direction of everywhere and nowhere, chewing her lip. "That this place used to be the Minotaur's home?"

"Phhw, and I thought you were smart, Sarah," Phaedra grunted. "My father's labyrinth was just a façade, a symbol of a prison and the unknown."

She ran her fingers through her dark hair, the muscles beneath the skin of her slender arms relaxing and tensing.

"My father disgraced the gods, the legend tells. How or why, is never mentioned, but the story goes on, telling how they cursed his wife with an unbearable desire for my father's finest bull and that she wooed Daedalus to build her a disguise of a heifer, so alike it fooled even the bull." Phaedra stared into the distance, a far-away look on her face. She continued in a low voice, "After they mated, she became pregnant and gave birth to a hideous monster with a head of a bull, body of a man, and an obstinate desire for young human flesh. That's the legend, and, bluntly said, it is mostly bullshit."

She stopped, giving Sarah a tight glance.

"Keep this in mind, Sarah; my mother never mated with a bull! As one of the ancients, she had the power to lull the ocean, awaken the night sky and drive the storms away. But there were powers even she couldn't control: dark, terrible powers. A creature of darkness raped her, planting in her a monster's semen. She died giving birth to that creature - the Minotaur. As she passed away, she warned my father to keep her monster son alive and feed it with human children, or the kingdom of Crete would be destroyed."

"My father obeyed and built a prison, a labyrinth, in which he kept my half-breed bastard brother, unable to even look at it. He commanded Athens to send their adolescents to be cast into the labyrinth."

She lifted her hand, sliding her fingers against the rough stonewall of the corridor, its sound accompanying her bleak voice.

"I used to wander next to the labyrinth, touch the rough walls the bright sun warmed. I tried to hear through the thick bricks; imagined the crunches, the shouts of agony and the steps over the sand-covered corridors." She sighed, her arm falling on her side, and she stopped in front of a heavy door that would lead to the bathroom.

"I do not know what drew me there for it was not a playground for a young child," she confessed, her chin down.

"Maybe you pitied them?" Sarah suggested, and Phaedra glanced at her with a sudden frown on her face.

"I would like to answer I did, but I didn't," she admitted softly. "I had lost my mother because of that monster. It was only right, I thought, that others should also suffer. So, no, I didn't pity any of those scared and young faces I saw passing my father's throne. I hated each of them. And I hated them even more when I saw pity in my sisters' and father's eyes." She closed her eyes as if pained by the memory before she continued in a stiff voice.

"I would also like to think no day smelled ever quite right after the day I looked down at the city harbor and recognized the ship; its dark sails like a brewing thunder, a silent mourning for the lost ones. Athens had sent their newest sacrifices, and in that ship arrived Theseus, a son of the king of Athens."

"I said Theseus didn't impress me, but that is not totally true. I didn't like him, but he impressed me despite being only a boy. I saw the dark fire in his eyes, his brawny hands and legs. I sensed his strength, knowing that he would become a dangerous man if allowed to live. I recall Ariadne stiffened next to me as their eyes met. She gasped and started shivering. My poor, innocent sister. She was lost at that moment. But she kept her silence, watching the victims of the Minotaur taken away, her eyes never leaving Theseus; and had I known what she planned, I would have never left her side. So cruel in her innocence, Ariadne doomed us all that day."

What could she mean by that, Sarah wondered, chewing her lip.

"Did you know that ancient tribes would cast their unwanted children in a maze?" Phaedra asked abruptly, drawing Sarah's attention. She shook her head mutely, and Phaedra tapped her finger against her arms in deep thought.

"The shamans and priests never stepped over a labyrinth shaped symbol, for they knew it might invoke old powers and they would be lost in its depths for all eternity. Such is the power of the Labyrinth, and in certain ways my father's maze was part of it just as much as it was a prison of the Minotaur," Phaedra explained, knitting her brow, and snorted, "It shouldn't be a surprise that Theseus, prince of Athens, who was young, strong and foolish, didn't care about this. He entered the labyrinth with a sword in his hand, promising to return to my sister in three days, and when that didn't happen, Ariadne followed him."

Phaedra pursed her lips together and her shoulders sagged a little but she didn't continue, standing motionless as if all power had fled her body; the immense cast iron door that would lead to the bath room blocking her way and her words.

"What happened then?" Sarah asked with a burning curiosity, jerking Phaedra out of her thoughts. She blinked but her dark eyes looked through Sarah, their deep inertia so terrible she shifted her weight uncomfortable at being in the direction of Phaedra. Then, the awareness returned to Phaedra's gaze. She smiled a brief and joyless smile before she turned around; and the doors opened, revealing the steaming room, hid in the darkness.

Stepping in the mist, Phaedra answered, the echo resonating from the walls, muffled and vague.

"You know the story. Theseus slew the Minotaur and escaped with my sister. When he returned years afterwards, he came, not with my sister, but with an army, and demanded to have me as his wife. With my witch mother gone, my father had no means to defend his kingdom any longer. The mighty Crete had fallen and I was given to Theseus as a ransom. How I hated him. He knew this, of course, and gloated that he had two of Minos' daughters and could always have more if it pleased him."

Phaedra touched her throat, her body an unclear figure amidst the hot steam. Sarah guessed she must be touching the odd, snake-like scar circling her neck as she muttered, "I suppose he could. The gods have an uncanny way of picking their favorites. They like their women virgin and men brutal; and I have to admit I wasn't sorry to learn about his fall."

"But what happened to Ariadne? You said she entered the Labyrinth? How did she beat Jareth?" Questions burned Sarah's mind. She still couldn't decide which one to ask. Phaedra had mentioned a dark power had raped her mother. Did she mean the Goblin King? And if Ariadne solved the Labyrinth why wasn't she here? There were so many possible answers, and inspecting them from different angles didn't ease her confusion.

"I promised to tell you a story about the Labyrinth and the fall of Crete. I will not tell my sister's story though," Phaedra answered quietly, her worn-out sadness wrapped around her like an invisible coat. "Not today."

Sarah's thoughts lingered on the mystery of Jareth and his Labyrinth as she, absentminded, stripped off her clothes and followed Phaedra into the pool. The warm water enfolded around her, lulling her in a blissful way but her thoughts scorched her mind. Phaedra had mentioned her father's labyrinth had been part of the Underground Labyrinth. If Ariadne had entered here, she must have met Jareth.

She tried to envision their meeting: a beautiful princess standing on the sandy hills of the Labyrinth, facing the haughty Goblin King. The image of crystal clear eyes brought acidy bile to her mouth, she swallowed it down, wondering if Jareth had loved Adriana.

It was stupid thing to do, but she couldn't contain her curiosity. "Phaedra, did…your sister meet Jareth?"

She could practically sense the shift in the woman's attitude. "And, pray tell, why would that interest you?" Phaedra asked, the amusement tinkling in her voice.

Blaming the heated water and the steaming mist for her blush, Sarah opened her mouth. "No reason. Just asking."

When Phaedra spoke, her words held a curious undertone. "Maybe you can ask that from Jareth yourself, later."

Unable to prevent her annoyance, Sarah huffed aloud in the direction she had heard Phaedra's voice coming through the thick mist, "I imagine his reaction would be something as enjoyable as sending me to an oubliette, or clean the trash chute yet again," She growled. "Don't pretend you haven't noticed the lack of patience he has for me."

"Yes, frustration can be a terrible motivator." Phaedra agreed. "I keep on saying he should rethink his strategy but he keeps on ignoring me. As usual."

Not knowing what to answer to the cryptic statement, Sarah kept her silence and was partially startled when Phaedra addressed her.

"Sarah."

"Yes?"

"It just occurred to me…"

The lingering wait increased her suspiciousness; her brows furrowed.

"I forgot to take my clothes with me," Phaedra confessed finally with a hesitation.

Even if slightly annoyed that it meant her bath would end, she sighed, "Should I fetch them for you?"

"That would be kind of you," Phaedra answered, the relief evident in her voice.

"No problems," Sarah said as she scrambled up from the pool, wrapping the towel around her body. "I'll just put my dress on first," she explained, heading towards the bench where she'd left her gown. Too bad she couldn't blow-dry her hair. The thought of going through the drafty and cold corridors in moist curls gave her shivers. Ah, well, if she got sick she could be given some additional free time, and avoid meeting Jareth. She let out an annoyed puff. _Ask Jareth…As if!_ Yesterday's confrontation between them burned clear in her mind, the memory of his eyes angry gleam sent a vague tremble over her body.

The Goblin King had vowed he would have his revenge on her, and, Sarah knew he would keep his promise. She definitely didn't want to stumble upon him anytime soon.

Quickly, she banished the apprehension, pretending not to be aware of its tickling fingers on her skin, or why.

"No need for that! I'll send you there," Phaedra called and her face appeared at the rail of the pool. Her mouth was cast in an odd secretive smile, which, together with her moist dark hair; bare skin, gleaming in the dim light, and white steaming mist, gave a sly impression. Pointing her hand towards Sarah, she grinned.

"You have all the time you desire, Sarah."

Before Sarah had time to reply, the mist started to swirl around her, wrapping the room and her tightly within. The last thing she saw of Phaedra was her still smiling face before the familiar lurch in her stomach ebbed away her surroundings and she vanished from the bathing room.

o O o

Her eyes took some time to settle though less than previously. Apparently, she was growing used to being transported. With her sight returning, Sarah felt a burning shock racing through her body. She didn't recognize the room. Bigger and with dark crimson furniture and gilded chandeliers it looked totally alien – and definitely not a woman's room. A tingling scent lingering in the air felt familiar though. She turned, feeling the coldness against her back, and snorted at the sight of king-size poster bed with luxurious red and golden cushions and bed sheets.

True enough, Phaedra had transported her to a bedroom. The evident problem was it wasn't hers. Darn with that woman – and without her clothes even! Sarah fumed, tossing her wet hair over her shoulder. She glanced around, faintly relieved to see no one present. She planned to keep it that way.

Without waiting longer, Sarah strode towards the door, leaving a trail of water on the floor. After she was out, she would search for her room and get back in her own clothes. After that she'd tell Phaedra just what she thought about her ways of behaving!

Sarah reached for the handle.

"I wouldn't try that were I you." Her skin crawled at the familiar tone, and her hand froze in mid-air.

_Buggers_.

She had hoped she could avoid him.

Painfully aware of her unconventional clothes, or lack thereof, and remembering all too clearly the way they had parted the last time, she carefully turned around and compelled her anxiety to the furthest corner of her mind.

He stood on the doorway of his balcony, which must be the reason she hadn't seen him previously. His fair hair billowed around his face, the stormy milieu enhancing its luminosity, the violent sky honing his features so much the mere sight of him stabbed her like a sharp knife. In his nearly black clothes, the contrast of his pale hair felt almost unbearable; the full-length opening at the front of his poet shirt revealing a good deal of his chest; the sleek and dark fabric adding to the sheer of his pale skin.

For a split second, Sarah forgot how to breathe.

Jareth didn't move, his eyes fixed on her as if he didn't quite comprehend her presence, and Sarah's voice died in her throat at the look on his face.

Finally, he moved, taking a deliberate step into the room, his eyes never leaving her. "And what exactly are you doing here, Sarah?" Jareth's low voice, almost a hiss, indicated that her company was far from desirable.

"Um." Her voice deserted her. The water trickled down her neck, and she shivered in the draft from the open door; goosebumps spreading quickly across her skin.

"Speak up!" he snarled, striding forward, now with a dreadful purpose in his movements and in the way he carried himself.

Her hands clenched the towel tighter, and she opened her mouth in a panic, blurting the first thing that came out of her mouth.

"I'm fetching clothes!"

His expression changed, the creases of his forehead leveled, and his swift movements shifted to lazy and reposeful. His eyes examined her, drawing every detail from her flushed figure to the gleaming skin and soaked dark curls. "Apparently," softly, he murmured in a tone that churned Sarah's cheeks. She hardly heard him speaking from the blood that rushed in her ears. "However, the question remains, why are you searching for them in my room?"

Her mouth opened and closed.

"I'm waiting, Sarah. Please explain yourself." The shadow of his gaze left a burning sensation, like a heated trail that traveled from her face down to her chest, her bare arms and legs. His long and thorough assessment over her current shape instigated a transformation of an atmosphere of a nerve prickling prurience.

"I…we…had a bath." Her voice broke and she swallowed, invisible fingers running down her spine when Jareth finally closed the distance between them. "Phaedra forgot her clothes and asked me to go and get them for her," she mumbled, cringing at each word and fuming inside. The nerve of the woman!

"And you run through the castle like a wild sprite – into my room?" the Goblin King asked, his voice filled with a unexpected mirth, and, reaching out his hand, touched her damp skin softly as though to marvel it. He dropped his hand, shaking his head. "You're truly a curious creature."

The words hit a chord, reigniting her panic. Sarah clutched her towel and retreated from him, denying the underlying suggestion with a vicious head movement. "No! She transported me here!" Trying to cast away the gust of fear that struck her somewhere between her stomach and chest, she continued, "It must've been a mistake. I'm sorry." She turned to flee but quickly Jareth snatched her arm, jerking her to a halt.

"Tsk, tsk, Sarah. What's the rush?"

She gave him a long and slow look sideways, deciding that not answering would serve her better.

Her silent noncompliance didn't impress him. "As it happens, this is my bedchamber…" he said almost in leisure and pulled her arm, sending her staggering clumsily forward and nearly colliding against his chest.

"I got that! I shouldn't be here! I'm sorry!" Sarah cried, gaining her footing and, when their eyes met, a shudder ran through her from the draft, and something nearly visible in Jareth's eyes. She tried pulling her arm out of his grip, her other hand squeezing the edge of her towel. "Just let go of me and I'll leave!"

"Ah, but I fear sorry just isn't sufficient, Sarah." Barely detectable darkness echoed beneath his voice - sort of a sinister amusement. His eyes grew dark and a specter of scorn played in the corner of his mouth.

She froze, staring at him, wide-eyed and muted, her fingers felt numb and cold.

"What was it you told me to do yesterday, just before we were interrupted?" he feigned forgetfulness, and smiled with a mixture of pleasure and delighted menace.

"Jareth, quit this," Sarah weakly protested, turning her head and avoiding his eyes.

"Oh yes, I think you blamed me for intimidating you, even dared me to do my best." He leaned closer, and the scent of musk, leather and magic twirled around her as if embracing her. His breath caressed the skin of her neck, and only by great effort she suppressed her shiver. "You know, Sarah, I would hate to disappoint you now."

"You don't have to prove anything!" Sarah hissed at last, her anger replacing her terror. "Just let me go!"

"No, but that's not how it works, as you know. And you should be aware that no one is allowed to enter my room without my permission. The penalty of intruding can be -" while he spoke, his fingers drew lazy circles on her skin, sending trembles all over Sarah's body, "very unpleasant."

"Do you get some sick pleasure at the thought?" Sarah snarled, and his expression hardened.

"Hardly."

"Funny. Could have fooled me," she snorted, putting up all her bravado, which, she guessed, Jareth must easily see through.

His eyes narrowing, he scowled, "Brave yet inane, as usual. Be aware that this time, Sarah," his words sunk in, like stones that plunged into water, tearing apart the pretence of her self-possession, "you will pay for it."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **As usual, I don't own the Labyrinth. Please also bear in mind that the story is rated "M". The standard 'thank you' goes to all you, reviewers, and my great beta! She has given me a fantastic support throughout the story.

Enjoy!

**The Land That Is Not**

Chapter 15

Jareth touched his lips thoughtfully, looking at Sarah with mock sympathy. "So tell me, Sarah. How should I punish you? I can hardly send you into the Bog. That would be too uncomfortable, not to mention, unpleasant for both of us."

"Since you're so set in your decision, why ask me at all?" she confronted him bravely yet unable to hide the tremble in her voice.

"Oh, but that just wouldn't be -- appropriate." The lazy smile was all teeth: white, sharp, predatory, and nothing to do with amusement.

Before she came up with a bitter rejoinder, he continued blithely.

"Yet it is true that I would be far too _generous_ to allow you have your say, since am I not, supposed to terrorize you?" A subtle shift in his appearance, the flickering gaze - both dreadful and elating - he cast on her, they all spoke their own language as he concluded his private musings with gleaming eyes, "And I think I might know just the right penance for you."

Sarah shook her head, clutching the towel even tighter and tried stepping backwards, Jareth's grip never letting go, the king following her like an untamed beast - sleek and dangerous and powerful. She didn't care that her body palpitated with terror over his allusion; seeing him like this singed like a hot iron.

"You --" The intensity of his dark eyes choked her voice and it took time to muster strength to continue. "I won't --"

Leaning closer, the distinctive aroma of his skin penetrating her senses and violating the borders of her privacy, he interrupted, "Sarah…" The way he pronounced her name should be penalized; rolling the 'r' softly over his tongue, whispering the 's' with a long soft hiss, like a caress -- no other could quite succeed to call her the same way. "Yes, you will. And you will release your towel." He eased his hold and his lips curled up in a pointed, sly smile.

Nearly biting her lip, Sarah felt a tremor shake her body, the tips of her fingers now freezing cold. "You're out of your mind! I most definitely will not!" she let out a terrified cry.

"Sarah, you will obey and drop that towel, right now," he ordered with a sudden harshness. "Or I'll rip it from you and tear it to shreds myself."

The words chilled her, the humiliating vision flashing through her mind. Her eyes seething with helpless fury, Sarah finally allowed the cloth to slip from her hands, jolting at the hissing sound and the feeling of soft fabric sliding across her skin before it amassed in a shapeless pile next to her feet.

He didn't utter a word, and the silence stretched all her nerves. She nearly cried out with dread when Jareth moved, his shirt letting out a soft swishing sound. Instinctively, she backed away, only to stumble against the door and its cold and rough surface rubbing against her back.

He touched her chin and tilted her face up.

She didn't dare to move, swallowing loudly and staring into his eyes. The sudden sensation of his fingers on her collarbone sent a violent shock across her body.

She noticed only then his hands were bare of his usual gloves. He had long delicate fingers. For some reason, Sarah hazily reflected on that revelation; she had always imagined his hands like that: supple and slim, hands of an artist's. She let out an involuntary gasp when he touched her breasts; her nipples instantly hardening at the teasingly light contact. Jareth's eyes narrowed at her reaction.

The expression broke her numbness, reigniting her resistance. She tried to dodge away, but Jareth reacted faster. He slammed his hands against the door, the contact letting out a loud slap, and trapped her between him and the door.

"Jareth, no, don't!" Sarah whispered, terrified.

He didn't answer, staring at her with his eyes burning like coals and challenging her to stay still. Arrogance abandoned, face full of desire, he moved even closer and, slowly, bent down to clasp his mouth around her nipple. He sucked. Sarah bit her lip, trying to stifle a moan. Yet her body betrayed her, yielding under him and his warm tongue. She bent backward, the surface of the wooden planks scraping her skin, and let out a whimper, a pitiful sound even to her own ears.

Jareth's stiffened at the sound.

"What Sarah?" he asked in a low voice, pulling himself upright, and watched her closely, eyes dark. He placed his hand on her chest, drawing lazy circles over her skin and bent down to lick her neckline. "You want me to continue?" he murmured teasingly, nibbling her earlobe, his fingers caressing her, sliding down her spine to the small of her back.

"No…" her words came out as a pathetic moan, all her senses on fire under his touch. "I don't."

"Sarah, precious, you don't sound so certain," he teased her, mouth pressed against her throat, tracing an invisible path along her skin with his tongue.

"I am!" she gasped, dizzy under his assault. "I want you to-- " She barely recognized her own voice: thick, dark and feverish. "Stop!" she whispered. "Please, Jareth, stop!" The humiliation he forced her to undergo burned all her pride away. "You've proven your point. You're right!"

He became rigid, pulling back but his eyes never left her. Horrified by her own reaction, Sarah didn't dare to meet his gaze. Her senses were screaming to pull back, escape and leave before it was too late. He had already seen her exposed; she shouldn't let him see into her soul. Yet she couldn't move.

Finally, Jareth broke the prolonged silence, "Look at me, Sarah."

Helplessly, she shook her head again, turning away; trembling.

"Sarah." His voice resonated with a confusing texture of passion, hate and anger as if he quite couldn't control his own feelings. Maybe more than his words, that raw emotion ensnared her attention. Complying with his command, she obeyed and faced the gleaming uneven eyes -- their radiating, terrifying fire.

"What did you say?" he asked; no, demanded.

"Jareth," she released a tired sound, a deep guff of air, and leaned against the door. Gods! How weary she had grown with this play of cat and mouse, too exhausted to watch out for her every word, defy him in every possible way. "You know that I want you, Jareth. You don't --" her voice broke, "You don't have to prove anything more."

There was a flash of victory in his eyes, satisfaction, and then something older, deeper – almost vulnerable that robbed her of air.

"Such a foolish girl," he mused softly, rubbing her chin with delicate, gentle touches; sliding the tip of his finger under her bottom lip, "to say such a thing, stark naked, to a man while in his bedroom." A wistful smile, like a whisper of a distant memory, appeared in the corner of his mouth. "Such a smart girl to say so…" His gaze grew darker, his smile almost bitter, as if he were mocking himself.

"You --"

He hushed and placed his finger against her lips. "No more games, Sarah." The strange intensity of his stare scared her maybe even more than his previous lustful cruelty. "No threats, no insults, no denials." He continued a tangible stringency in his voice, so terrible she almost tasted its tang on her tongue, "You can make a decision to leave now, Sarah. You may turn your back and return to your room, and I won't stop you. You may stay as well, and I _will _make love to you."

At the revelation of his blunt statement, Sarah's mind abandoned words. Her body burned from where he had touched her, yet her mind echoed as if empty – from the shock? She couldn't say. Motionless, she only gave him a wild look; almost forgetting he could still ravish the sight of her naked body with his eyes.

"To demand such a decision, now," she whispered, swallowing hard. She closed her eyes; opened again. "Why?" Her voice sounded odd: strangled, scared -- and yet trembling with half-buried lust.

"Why not?" he asked back.

"You've deprived me of all dignity," Sarah said hoarsely. "Yet you expect me to throw myself willingly at you? For what?"

"Desire can be a terrible motivator," he answered in a rough voice, an unexplainable glint in his eyes.

She gulped, understanding then the reason behind the long sideways looks he had given her across the dinner table, the terrible helpless anger she sometimes detected in his gaze. It wasn't because he blamed her for the disappearance of Toby, not because he might lose his throne, or her beating him in his own game. No, in truth, the blame of all that was just as much his as it was hers. His anger was something more personal. He hated that he wanted her just as much. For a moment, Sarah felt her knees buckling underneath her.

"The way you describe desire," her voice strangled in her throat, "makes it sound more like an obsession."

"Don't feign innocence," he mocked her, slipping his fingers across her skin, just above the collarbone, and his eyes narrowed at her involuntary shiver. "Desire is a feeling just as much as is anger, hate…or love, Sarah."

"But the price of surrendering to that kind of feeling, so blindly," Sarah muttered and took in a deep breath as to steady herself, still not quite grasping the extent of her earlier blindness concerning Jareth. "And what then? You seriously think it would end there?" she let out a choked laugh, almost hysterical, with frantic thoughts racing through her mind.

He didn't reply, and she looked at him, taking in his tension, the stiff posture of his shoulders and the uncertain flicker of his eyes. He hadn't expected her to say that aloud, she realized. Hadn't even thought about it himself. His surprise, written so clearly on his face, spoke volumes.

"You didn't answer my question," she said in a low voice, relaxing at last, giving him a long look through her eyelashes. "It wouldn't end here, would it, Jareth?" Almost amazed of her boldness, she placed her hand on his chest, feeling him tense under her touch. Heard the sharp intake of air and allowed herself a small smile, seeing it so very clear all of a sudden while slipping her hand beneath his silky shirt.

Desire could be a terrible motivator, indeed.

Unabashed, she took a step forward and rose on her toes. Unhurried, she captured his lips in her own. He stood unmoving as if paralyzed; then let out a sudden growl. Jareth's hands clasped around her waist and he jerked her violently against his body. His tongue slid inside her mouth, and she allowed it to enter with enthusiasm. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Sarah gave into him, breathing in his scent; savoring him.

His hands wandered restlessly over her body, down her back, and touching the arch of her bottom. He pulled her with him, steering them towards his bed. Just as impatiently, she pushed the silky fabric of his shirt out of her way, revealing more of his pale skin. Marveling at its smoothness, the hidden strength of the trembling muscles, Sarah skimmed her fingers over his body, before placing her mouth against his chest.

Jareth let out a surprised gasp and stopped, watching her with his eyes dark as she started stripping him. She kissed and nibbled him -- his throat, chest, and stomach, tracing her tongue everywhere she exposed his body, and heard his uneven breathing. As she took him in her mouth, he choked out a pleased sound, gasping her name with a rough, feverish voice. His reaction exhilarating her even more, the grunted moans of her name that escaped his lips as she sucked him and felt him stiffening.

Admiring the sight of seeing him naked, thrilled at the impact she had on him, Sarah stepped back. She licked her lips, tracing her tongue slowly across her lip, daring him to meet her gaze; and saw his arousal. As if uncertain, a shadow of a wordless wonder playing over his features, Jareth reached out to touch her, running fingers through her hair. He moved so close his chest brushed her breasts and, tugging her hair, coerced her face up. He fastened his lips on hers, almost brutally, kissing her as if to punish her for her previous boldness. His tongue probed deeper, demanding her answer, and when he finally broke the kiss, Sarah could only gasp for air and cling to him.

As she lay down on the bed, he paused to inspect her, and Sarah shivered at the intensity she saw flickering in his gaze. He smiled then; a tiny warped smile before coming down on her. She wheezed, feeling him licking and tasting her, tracing small kisses all around her body, on her breast, her navel and abdomen. His fingers worked their way to her crotch, and Sarah whimpered.

"Sarah, precious…" His low voice resounded with a terrifying desire, a deep, unexplained yearning; and she gasped. "Tell me you want me!" he demanded, switching to his tongue, and she cried, _yes, yes, yes,_ arching her back under his touch, throwing her arms out o on the bed in the climax of his delectable tormenting. He took pleasure in her reaction, his fingers pushing deeper, and ordered in a dark voice, almost desperate, "Say you want me, Sarah!"

Her body burned at the nimble touches of his tongue and fingers, curving against the bed as he played, nudged and tugged, until no coherent thought was left in her. Nearly oblivious, on the verge of her feverish desire, wriggling on the bed, she called out, "I want _you_, Jareth!"

He pulled back and, before Sarah could even catch her breath and calm her nerves, had moved over her. She cried anew as she felt him entering and coiled her arms around him, welcoming all of him. Jareth's mouth crushed her lips, and she tasted herself in his obsessive kiss, pulling him even closer, adapting to his rhythm. He let out unintelligible sounds at the back of his throat, pushing deeper, and she arched underneath him, crying out. They climaxed at the same time, embracing each other, bodies trembling and sweaty.

"My precious, Sarah." He buried his face in her neck, kissing her as if he couldn't get enough of her taste, of her. "I'll never let you go…" his words were only a whisper, which Sarah barely registered, her body still flushed of desire, her heart throbbing in a maddened pace, and panting. He looked up; locking his eyes with her, and gave her a slow and wicked smile, full of barely veiled meanings and filling her with apprehension.

"A vixen… Who would have guessed?" Jareth murmured, brushing her wet hair from her face and moving his fingers smoothly across her temples. His gaze darkened from passion, and she barely had time to breathe as he claimed her mouth another time.

They made love throughout the day until the point of utter exhaustion. Placing a tender kiss on the top of her head, he pulled her in his arms. Sarah buried her face in the crook of his chin, nudging closer and breathing in his enthralling scent, hearing him to let out a deep sigh. Jareth enfolded his arms around her, possessive, but she let it pass, her eyes fluttering close. Just before she fell asleep, a small knowing smile tugged her lips; remembering --

_-- and he had given her certain powers._

o O o

A sense of delirious warmth, a faint tickle running down her spinal cord, diffused through her dream and woke her up. The night had been the first decent one in weeks without her usual nightmares, and, slightly disoriented, she slowly came to terms with reality: the masculine body next to her, the appealing scent enfolded around her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she took a careful look through her eyelashes, half-hidden from Jareth's stare.

His fingers caressed her shoulders, skimmed over her skin as he studied her with a peculiar expression -- almost wistful. His mismatched eyes, one silvery blue, the other one green, flickered when he discerned she was awake.

"Good morning, Sarah."

Despite having her own share of boyfriends and morning-afters, Sarah found herself incredibly nervous, pink creeping up on her cheeks. "Morning," she muttered, shivering for no particular reason and tracing her fingers across his sinewy chest, along the fine lines of his muscles as if not quite believing he truly lay beside her.

She wondered, slightly uncomfortable, what would this shift in the manner of their relationship entail, if she had just committed herself into something worse? Eternity in the Underground was bad enough, but to become his -- lover? Mistress? One night stand? Her stomach interrupted her, grumbling loudly and displeased. Sarah cringed when she heard Jareth chuckling.

"I'm hungry, and no wonder." She winced when feeling her sore muscles, accusing him and poking him with her finger, faintly surprised at her easy attitude. "Not that I had time to eat too much yesterday. You took rather good care of that."

"Impetuous as usual, vixen," he mused aloud, amused and without any anger. "But I guess I could always arrange something."

She started when his eyes suddenly grew dark, with the uneven color of his irises steepening. His pupils dilated and constricted sharply, and his gaze turned inward as if his mind was travelling somewhere else. Then, he released a breath, relaxing, and the awareness returned in his eyes, their hue restoring back to normal. Incapable tearing off her gaze, Sarah saw the sudden flicker of another kind of hunger passing over his features.

Almost regretful, Jareth pulled further away, his hands skimming over her skin before getting out of the bed. He tilted his head, with an air of amusement about him and bowed jestingly, "Breakfast is served, madam."

Relieved to find the dining room empty of possible servants when they emerged from his bedchamber, Sarah, draped in a green silk robe with golden embellishments adorning the luxurious fabric that came down to her ankles, peeked around, curious. Despite seeing the room yesterday, she blushed suddenly; she hadn't paid too much attention to it, with Jareth dominating most of her focus. She seized her opportunity now, wandering further, her bare feet making a soft sound on the thick and expensive rugs that covered the cold stone floors. She slid her fingers across the dark wooden furniture, the chairs and sofas, clothed in the same burgundy red as Jareth's poster bed, with a sudden memory of the sofa's armrest jabbing her back yesterday, and stopped in front of a huge mirror. The reflection mimicked her movements, touching her bare neck, covered of dark marks the low-cut neckline of the emerald green gown hardly hid. She blushed at her ruffled image, wondering whether the robe belonged to Jareth or one of his previous mistresses the goblins had told her about. Mouth drawing a tight line, she cast the thought quickly away and massaged the base of her neck, absentminded, glancing over her shoulder.

Arms folded across his chest, Jareth was leaning against the doorframe and staring at her with a blank face, eyes hooded. The dark silk cloth – almost identical to Sarah's robe – he had thrown carelessly over him had been left half-open, gratuitously allowing a great deal of his slim body to remain visible. Sarah's mouth turned dry as she envisioned his mouth against hers, so tangible she nearly tasted him, a light tremor of excitement running through her; and flinched when an indistinct ache around her pelvic area cautioned her to slow down with her imagination.

He detached from the door, his movements graceful and effortless as if unaffected by the fact that they had spent all of yesterday in various positions, studying each other's anatomies. It had to be the advantage of being a debauch Underground king with millenniums of practice time, Sarah concluded with a quiet envy.

Silently, he sealed the space between them, his hands sliding inside the opening of her robe and the crook of his arm brushing the underside of her breasts. Forgetting her body's earlier discomfort, she found herself responding by instinct.

Her stomach decided to rumble another time then, and Jareth sighed, releasing her. "Nourishment first, then," he mused aloud, caressing her cheek, and Sarah nodded with a blush, wrapping the robe tighter around her.

She took a seat at the dining table, Jareth placing himself across the table. Her nostrils flared at the delicious scents, and she started piling items on her plate, hunger sweeping the tension out of her mind.

"What if I had tried leaving, yesterday?" she asked after awhile, hiding her face quickly and looking into her coffee cup. She felt his eyes on her.

"I told you you were free to do so, didn't I?"

She persisted, her attention fixed on the white porcelain cup and the golden design adorning it, "But you didn't know that Phaedra --"

"You're not honestly considering I would do something so tasteless as to ask her to deliver you, practically naked, to my room?" Jareth interrupted, scorn and amusement coloring his voice.

"As far I can tell, you weren't complaining too much," Sarah pointed out and took a deep breath, Phaedra's machination stinging her heart. "She's behaving awfully autonomous, taking into consideration you're supposed to be the king."

He looked amused, glancing at her with gleaming eyes before picking a peach from a wooden basket and toyingwith it in his hands. "Curiosity killed the cat, Sarah," Jareth reminded, a faint grin spreading across his lips. "Though I confess, she has a tendency to meddle with others' lives far too much for her own good." He danced the fruit across his fingers and his hands with nimble movements, and offered it to her.

She snorted, unaffected by his parade, but accepted the fruit, nevertheless.

"I would appreciate if she didn't do that with mine," she sighed, holding the peach with her fingertips and frowning at the fruit. "I mean, what does she gain from it, anyway?"

That same hooded look appeared in his eyes, and he considered his words. "I wouldn't make the assumption she benefits from anything."

"Oh." Uncomfortable by his insinuation, she looked aside.

"Admittedly, I'm not particularly pleased with her way of intervening, yet it would be presumptuous to put all blame on her. Or wouldn't you agree, Sarah?"

"That's not the point! You've admitted you don't even know what she's doing here, yet you allow her to conduct these little games." Sarah accused him sourly, placing the peach on her plate. "That's quite thick, coming from you."

"Sarah. Don't flatter yourself by thinking I wouldn't see through her little tirade," he warned her. "I've known Phaedra since the beginning of my time."

She registered the information, stuffing it in the back of her mind.

"I don't know her! And considering that I get the impression she only wants to make me your personal sex object, or – worse – join in later, is damn right upsetting!"

He blinked, staring at her incredulously. Then, his lips started twitching, the unexpected merriment twinkling in his eyes before he burst into deep bellowing laughter that brought tears to his eyes.

"I'm not joking!" she hissed, offended by his jovial outburst.

"Sarah, you have the most creative imagination." Jareth shook his head and wiped his eyes, still chuckling softly. "Just let me assure that Phaedra, most definitely, has no desire to 'join in' – as you so bluntly put it – and I want that to happen even less. I wouldn't either believe her goal to be something so cheap you assume, which is not to say I minded having you as an object of my pleasures," he flashed a sly grin, continuing before she could interrupt him, "but I doubt her plans include seeing you as something so -- dreary."

"But…" Sarah whispered, tears of frustration and humiliation burning her eyes. "It doesn't make any sense. Why's she so interested in playing matchmaker?"

He took in a deep breath, his merriment waning away. "I guess you deserve an explanation." He tilted his head, looking at her in contemplation. "You see, Sarah, Phaedra and me, we are relatives."

Her mouth gaped open, breakfast forgotten, and he smiled wryly at her surprise. "Don't look so shocked, precious. I speak the truth. My mother is Phaedra's sister, and the only one before you to conquer the Labyrinth."


End file.
